when Florence Welsh said “What a thing to admit that when someone looks at me with real love I don’t like it very much / Kinda makes me feel like I’m being crushed”
short walk in the sun momentarily heals local woman who hasn’t felt real since she was 7
Just finished my 8,000th re-watch of Fleabag Season 2, and I’m absolutely astounded every single time how Fleabag is able to completely capture the feeling of loneliness that doesn’t leave the room when others enter. The feeling of loving people with everything you’ve got, and not getting that back in return. The feeling of holding on to a memory, a place, a feeling—and feeling safer in those moments that are already gone rather than experiencing life in the present. There is a sad sort of understanding that I get at the end of season 2, where I realize that we can take our demons, we can take our loneliness and our past and our hurt, and instead of pushing the present away, we can walk right into it—even if we’re alone.
i have never felt as mature as when i finally understood (through therapy) and internalized (through emotional work) that you cannot connect and communicate with some people no matter how kind, compassionate, understanding, articulate, eloquent, or smart you are, and that sometimes a person not listening to you does not reflect on your communication skills or ability to connect or straight up intelligence. in a way, it’s letting go of the belief that you have the power to make people understand you. communication is a two-way street, and needs two willing participants. some people are just walls, and it has been unbelievably helpful for my mental and emotional health to let it slide and know that it does not affect me or my self worth.
