Today someone I love broke up with me, because he thinks that his whole life, he's been living for other people and not for himself. And that everyone's perception of him has been wrong, his entire life, and now it's time for him to figure out who he is. ...Anyone know what the fuck that means?? He pursued me, and he was totally wonderful for 5 months - I've never been so happy - and now he's saying that "my perception" of him was wrong. As if everyone's perception of him just came out of thin air! Our perceptions were obviously a part of his character; your self is made up partly of others' perceptions anyway, is it not? As if there's some kind of "pure" self that can ever exist!! Maybe if you're born in a lab and never allowed any human contact your entire life. That's definitely living for yourself. Sounds great.

He actually used the phrase, "living in servitude", to describe his life.

He'd been depressed for the past month about not knowing what his real purpose is in life, and I was patiently waiting for him to get through it, because he just turned 31 and I thought it was just a crisis, because it's a valid concern we all struggle with, and mostly because I never imagined that after such a strong 5 months, he wouldn't come back out of it and we'd be okay.

I personally get really tired of myself, and thank god that there are other people to inspire me. And oddly enough, this was my favorite person. Nice to know that everything he presented himself to be was merely my mistaken impression, and now I am no longer holding him back from who he really is. What an inflated sense of self-importance. It's mind-boggling. This guy is an artist who has recently realized that he hasn't been making his own art for years now, because he has thrown himself into the world of being a freelance designer, and now he can't seem to get his own muse back, so I suspect he's grasping at straws for reasons why. Clearly, everyone that cares about him has been holding him back, and completely in the way. Certainly I have. Especially since I've been a solid example of functioning when it comes to relationships, family, friends, and work, while still doggedly working away at my music and writing. That must have been irritating. Oh, but I am not an artist. I must not be a true artist in any sense. Because if I were living just for myself, I'd never have any inspiration at all.

Even Picasso had wives.

So I guess he's just going to be alone now, so he can find himself and his art. Until death do them part.

Photo by icopythat via Flickr