shameful argument

Why does it matter so much whether we are accepted or not by people, even when the individual judging us doesn’t have any particular authority?

It doesn't matter if Person A likes Person B or not. Person A's feelings toward Person B does not affect the way they work together. The world continues to turn, people continue to live and deeds continue to be done. It doesn't hurt anything. With the exception of Person B. Shamefully.

“I don’t see why anyone would like me, but when someone doesn’t… I wonder why.”

I hate fighting this feeling of wanting to be liked. I cannot even fathom the reason why it “hurts” when one claims—even jokingly—to hate me. On one hand, I can say I couldn’t care less. Given the particular day, I probably really couldn’t. Yet, right now, I just can’t shake this sad feeling that weighs heavily on my shoulders upon hearing that this person does not like me.

I once said that a friend who makes you walk on eggshells isn’t the best company to keep. I believe that, firmly. I don’t know what to do, however, when the relationship was never like that in the beginning. And I don’t know how to fix it, or how these eggshells came about. Or who put them there. Or how to sweep them away. The second I feel as though I’m making progress, I notice more were thrown on the ground behind me.

It’s frustrating.

But perhaps I’m only being silly and self-centered. It was only a joke, and it isn’t as though everyone is expected to like me or at least enjoy a few minutes of my company. I just hate always, at one point in every relationship (friendship, romance, etc.), I begin to worry if I care too much, or if I’m assuming that it is something that it is not.

I really wish things could be as they were, but I’ve already made the decision to not give up on it. You’re just very, very difficult to read and perhaps I’m trying too hard for something that just can’t happen again.

It doesn’t stop me from missing any of it, whatever it was, whatever it is.

You’re so difficult to read. And I’m feeling the repercussions of something I can only assume is the premature emergence of disdain.