Member-only story
The Intolerance That Results When We Out Grow People
I simply can’t tolerate the person I am with them. I thought it was them all along. That they had changed and that I couldn’t tolerate it, but I was wrong. I sat there staring at them sitting on the couch. At another dinner. A dinner we had repeated for close to 30 years. I sat there thinking about how this might be the dinner where I lost it. The sight of him and her cuddling was making me sick and when per usual their daughter had to get close to the action to ensure the family huddle was complete I looked at my husband with a psychotic gaze as if to say, I really can’t do this.
This was part of our norm once. Now we sit there watching a re-run we can’t tolerate. They haven’t changed. It’s some sick world where everything is on auto repeat. Where there are countertops of food for people who aren’t coming. Nice conversations about a life we no longer want to live. It is cute chit chat about things that are serious. It is a chasm created by a complete and utter void of genuine care and curiosity about other people. Can you tell me five things about my hopes and dreams? Remember that time when she sprayed whipped cream on him by accident and we all laughed? Yeah, wasn’t that like ten years ago? Why don’t you want to know me? How can you be so happy to maintain this way of life?
