When you first meet, she's like a fast, speeding car. She invites you to hop in and the desire for adventure takes over, so you do, risk and all. At first, you feel like your life is finally going somewhere fast! It's a little scary, but wonderful. She's turning left and right and you can almost feel the speed on your skin. It's inebriating. Nothing wrong with that, right?...
When you first hop in the car it doesn't seem to be any problem, in fact, it smells nice, it looks good, everything is a novelty and you trust it, you make like that commercial and just do it.
Then you start noticing these little things… Whenever there's a speed bump she just goes over it without ever slowing down and you always hit your head on the roof. She doesn't apologize for it either, after all, if you agreed to get in a fast car then you were bound to bump your head a few times, it's just natural, that's just what happens. That is how her mind works. And you have no right to question it. Or maybe you do. She does take pride in being "open to feedback", but you are praised for agreeing with her and berated for disagreeing. At some point you learn your heart gets broken less often if you just agree non-stop.
Next, you notice how little space there actually was in the car in the first place. Your seat was free, but there's no room for your things, your life, your taste and style. There never was, but if you wanted this ride you needed to jump in the car - no time to take a look around and realize this seat required an empty person, not a real one.
You suggest a stop so you can breathe, maybe declutter the car a little, but no. There's no stopping, absolutely, we cannot stop! is their reaction. This is when you start to get scared. You suggest stopping to look at nature instead, or slow down to enjoy the view and are equally scolded, told your life wasn't moving before because you kept wanting to slow down. She uses your own pain against you, making you feel guilty for your own vulnerability. Who wouldn't shut down when faced with that? A fighter? A screamer? You can't become who you're not for the sake of survival. You will do what you can to survive. In this case, you understand it's adapt or get out. There's no fixing this.
She is so focused on driving fast, needs so much to keep moving she forgets to acknowledge that the passenger's needs are just as important as their own, and that their need for speed should not and does not rule out the passengers need for safety, comfort and good company.
People start cutting her off and pretty soon she starts honking, screaming, cursing loudly and being very very rude to whoever crosses her. Don't you dare disagree even if you know she was driving over the speed limit in that particular lane. Don't you dare or she might kick you out of the car, but this is a Highway. What are you going to do? My God, what are you going to do? This is a Highway, if she kicks you out of the car you're done for. How are you going to get back home? It's way too late now so either you shut up or you try to agree as best you can 'cause you don't have a car and it eats you up and right then your fear and your silence start to be criticized as a lack of loyalty or to attest that you are the one being a bad passenger, my God, you get to a point where you're terrified to breathe, you're terrified to move, you don't know how to be a good passenger and you desperately don't want to be in this car anymore, but you do want your life to keep moving and you don't have a car and you're on a fucking highway...
A panic attack
Is still the least of your problems.
In quiet of the eye of the storm, you finally see that car wasn't built for two. The driver never cared to tell you, maybe, because they never even realized it themselves. It looks like it was meant for two, but the back seats are full of junk, trash or luggage and those take up all the space that was supposed to be meant for you.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário