I am returning to the theme of wanting, too much, to help. Can I help?
In my encounter with someone, I care for and am paying attention to. I identify with the struggle that is apparently, to me, going on with you. I immediately relate to something I have experienced. I begin to formulate and present a plan of action to alleviate all of your problems.
I devise an elaborate plan to build a magnificent being from the shambles I presume. And I wonder why you suddenly are unreachable or react like I must be talking to somebody else.
Then I’m confused and bewildered as to why I can’t reach you. I know I recognize the pain in your eyes. I have deduced that you are interested in improving yourself. We are on similar paths. I know not exactly but close enough to be arrogant enough to think I have the answers you need.
You see I am afflicted with being a typical, however weird most of the time, Male of the species. I want to fix things. I want most to deliver solutions to perceived problems. When all that is really needed is understanding and expressing that what I am seeing is authentic and valid. I just need to be there and will be when you need.
I care about people and have defied, with His and others help, the death grip of addiction and self-absorption. I know you can too but it’s not my place to decide when and where.
To understand. To do my best to see. To be ready when the time is at hand.
I love ❤