Messy

Friends and family love me from afar.

Being close to me is messy, and people don't like messy.

I get the check-in messages or phone calls. "Hey sweetie, how're things? Okay, gotta run. Love to you and Mark, talk to you later." And then silence for weeks.

"I know you struggle at times, but I need...". I am good at that. I can keep things un-messy long enough for when someone needs something.

I get the "how are you doing with, you know" and "hang in there. It will get better."

No, it won't. The best it will ever be is manageable. And that makes people uneasy.

Sad, pathetic looks towards my husband and me. I know what they mean. "How sad." and "I don't know how his husband does it."

They hurt because sometimes the truth hurts.

The truth is, I don't know how he does it either. But I also don't know how I do it. I battle every day. EVERYDAY. And no one wants to be around a conflict, even if there are no sides. No right and wrong. Even though it is a conflict with myself, it is too real for most people.

But I am still me, even though people don't see me anymore. To them, I am no longer Jim, the funny, passionate, intelligent, supportive, positive, bear-hugging friend or brother or uncle. To them, I am just a mess, better from a distance.

So I don't reach out when I am struggling and in sadness, not even when I am doing well. The response, or lack of, is too painful.

It is easier to love me from a distance. Being close to me is messy, and people don't like messy.