The Manners I Taught Myself
There is a certain charm in living an unapologetic way. You say what you mean. To whomsoever you find worthy of your time. You talk to people you like. You tell them when you like them. You don't care about opinions from people who don't matter to you.
For a long period I lived this way. I never thought about morality. The right and the wrong. The good and the bad. I did what I thought was right. For me, morality was always about the person in question. If I loved someone, the moral thing was to make them happy. If I disliked a person, I wouldn't bother with kindness. I wasn't rude either, but I couldn't be bothered to put in the effort.
I struggled with the idea of love for a long time. I grew up without one. I thought there is no such thing as unconditional love. I still believe that to some degree. So I always thought I would never be loved. If I knew I would never be loved, why bother being anything you are not. Why bother tolerating people you do not like.
You become a different person when you are not expecting love. When you are not waiting for anybody to understand you. It's a lonely life I lived without a clear diagnosis. This disposition attracted many girls. They saw a man who didn't want love, who said things as he pleased, mincing no words, speaking what he was actually feeling.
They saw an honest man. But in truth I was a broken and detached person. I realised that the world bows down to you when you don't care. Obviously I realised much later that your attitude shifts entirely when you are indifferent to an outcome. The world simply appears a tad more tolerable with this mindset.
There's a certain allure in living an unapologetic life. I flirted to my heart's content. I never stopped and the girls never stopped me. Ever. They liked this version. Just when I realised this could go on, I began to experience a craving for love. And everything started falling apart after that.
I gradually realised that you cannot do this indefinitely. People get hurt. You too get hurt. I never thought it was possible for me to get hurt again. But I did, and I realised I could not go on. I started thinking about the right and wrong behind every situation. The morality of it. The absurdity of an unapologetic life. You can never truly live without worrying about the outcome.
I am a different man now. I show kindness to people I cannot tolerate. I don't speak my mind knowing it could wound someone. You are not supposed to say cruel things to people. It bothers me that others don't seem to know this. They are still saying it, but I can't fight back. I taught myself the manners I once lacked.
I am admired for my calmness. Admired for my thoughtfulness. I am liked because I treat everyone as though they matter. But I still have the heart of a child inside. It's stubborn and it weeps. They admire a version that I am not. I cannot become who I was, because that is neither ideal nor moral nor right.
And so there's a paradox, and the stubbornness of a child. I either want the most passionate relations in my life. Where I say what I mean. Where others hold the same right over me. Where the individual is bigger than morality, the right and the wrong. Either I get that or I want nothing. I do not want ordinary relationships.
It is one of the last ways in which I have preserved my dignity. Honouring the old self. By rebelling against the mediocrity of human relations. I will not participate. I am not afraid of being alone. I have lived that way my entire life. I don't mind living the rest of it.