Whether you think you can or you think you can’t.
You’re right.
Posts tagged "thoughts"
Arguing style test →
Arguing is an indication of wanting to communicate something, usually something close to one’s heart. While many issues can be resolved through peaceful discussion, other conflicts can provoke anger, defensiveness, resentment and other strong emotions. In a long-term relationship, it is nearly impossible to avoid hurt feelings, misunderstanding and conflict.
A couple can slip into old inefficient patterns every time they start arguing about an important issue. Thankfully, everyone can learn how to communicate and solve conflicts efficiently in order to achieve mutual understanding, fulfillment and deep intimacy.
My result: Positive fighting tactics.
There are times when you engage in arguing behaviors that can help end a fight quickly and satisfactorily for both parties, but it is not the norm for you. This might draw fights out longer than necessary because of misunderstandings. By listening carefully, looking for solutions and (horror of horrors) apologizing, you can begin to communicate more effectively with your partner.
These tactics can serve to reassure your partner that you’re working together towards a common goal. Couples who rely on positive tactics when fighting improve their overall satisfaction with their relationship and are more likely to stay together.
"No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than it’s opposite."
- Nelson Mandela
True love.
I hate when I see pictures of a fat guy and a skinny girl or a fat couple or a skinny girl with a fat guy and people comment saying, “you don’t know their story. Haters gonna hate. This is true love.”
Well, that’s great, you know. I’m not judging. But why do they always have to say things like… this is true love… oh yeah? Is it? Is it really? No way.
Oh wow, you’re both fat, true love.
Oh, skinny couple, true love.
Oh, one of you are fat, huh? True love.
Why do pictures like this even go around the net? I mean, aren’t they just normal people loving each other? Everyone makes such a big deal out of these things and yeah, they’re not bad things, but why not… I don’t know… treat them like just any other couple?
I’m guessing I need to be a certain body type to have the Internet declare my relationships, true love.
Actually under blankets.
I actually just want to go back to the moment of warmth, security, satisfaction. Your skin is actually the positive end of a magnet and I the negative. Actually, I just can’t stay away.
Well I’m going back soon, actually, I’ll see you then.
Garbage.
What a bore have I become. All this depressing talk of sadness and emotions will just not do. Let me throw the rubbish out while you hold that thought. There is simply no room for all this negativity.
Who wants to talk to someone who slouches and grouches and sulks like a loser in the corner of a happy world. Not me.
So, right, you were saying?
"Never underestimate the power of guilt."
Anchor.
At the common room an announcement was made that whoever wanted to watch an open surgery was welcome to view it. I ran of course, seated in the front row, excited and eager.
The first operation took exactly two hours but it didn’t feel that long. We were asked to step out, for the next surgery would be in another three. I ran back to the common room asking if Boy with Golden Hair would accompany me to watch the next one. His eyes fixed on the TV with a controller in his hands and fingers pressing buttons as if they had a mind of their own nodded to my direction. I rolled my eyes and put my hands to my hips.
Boy with Golden Hair after noticing I hadn’t said a word looked at me and decided to give me a hug. I told him of the red blood and the sharp instruments and the steady hands the Doctors had. He wasn’t that interested. We walked out and I showed him the room where all the sharp, metallic, operating utensils were.
He asked if we could go out and get some fresh air. I thought this was wise and so we headed out hand in hand. The sky was clear blue and the sun shone. There were a number of people kicking around a soccer ball and to the right were a group of boys shooting hoops. Boy with Golden Hair introduced me to a couple of his friends and I shook their hands like a proper lady would.
Boy with Golden Hair decided he wanted to play. As I sat on the grass, his friend sat next to me. He bobbed his head to the direction of Boy with Golden Hair and asked me if I loved him. I smiled, nodding, yes I do love him.
Then what are you doing to him, friend said. I was confused, what did he mean?
He would do anything for you, friend continued, but look at you two, very different people, let him go and let him do what he wants to do. Stop trying to shape him into someone he’s not.
I looked at Boy with Golden Hair who waved at us from afar and I smiled back. Unsure. Puzzled.
I thanked the friend and decided I wanted to go back inside. Boy with Golden Hair ran after me asking me what was wrong, I told him a storm was coming and I didn’t want to be out when it arrived. He looked at the clear sky confused, but walked in with me.
From that day on, I stopped inviting Boy with Golden Hair to anything. I did what he did and let him do what he wanted. To this day I feel like an anchor weighing him down. It hurts knowing you’re the reason this person isn’t out there. It hurts even more thinking that when I let him go, he’ll be relieved more than appreciative.
Answer.
I was taken aback but the answer was not surprising. How could I think the answer would be anything else but that? That was what defined him as a person; what he was made out of.
I feel as I continue into this labyrinth I find myself deeper and deeper into the world of uncertainty and I continue, leaving it all to chance. That clashes with what I accept as true believing that everything happens for a reason and what will happen should happen. Except I can’t stop moving into this maze because I’ve already gone in a great distance that I can’t find my way out and feel as if this is what I was meant to do at this particular time in my life.
If I looked back, tried to see things from another perspective, put myself out of this tangle, I’d see things clearly, know where I went wrong or where the end was. But that’s not the game, is it?
I find it disheartening that I even mentioned it a game. I try not to think of what’s ahead and keep going and look at the here and now but I think that part of being an adult is actually looking ahead and planning.
Clearly, the answer is in front of me. That one answer changed it all.
