Idealised relationships..is what we have learned to want through our daily lives, with the media and all..
I often think about how I loved in old, past relationships and see that it was just a form of projection..we take in what we want to fill our version..and the rest kind of gets covered in a see through white sheet..
Enough to look at it..but not enough to actually see it for what it is, themselves..
And when I look back..I see how I was just performing my idealised version of loving too.
I loved a fake version in a fake way..
Most of the time..we don't even get to the point where we can transition, you just never loved in the first place..
You just had a desire for what you wanted in that situation...and you got it.
That image of the see-through white sheet really stayed with me, Vian. There’s something painfully accurate in the idea that projection can leave just enough of the real person visible for us to believe we’re seeing them clearly, while desire quietly fills in everything else. And I really loved what you said about performing our own idealized version of loving too—that adds another layer I hadn’t put into words so directly.
Reading your comment also made me think about how complicated it is to decide where projection ends and love begins. Sometimes the feeling itself may still be completely sincere, even if the person we’re loving has been partly shaped by what we hoped to find there. Maybe that’s what makes the unraveling so painful: not discovering that nothing was real, but realizing that reality and imagination had been living inside the same feeling all along. Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful reflection with me. 🩷
I love that your response is very thoughtful, It is hard to decide where the projection ends and Love takes over. Your reflection on that was great and made me realise that, most of that pain you feel in the unravelling is the guilt of being so close to that reality....
That you were so very close. The only thing that held you back was your level of growth and maturity...
Vian, the way you described the unraveling as the guilt of having been so close to reality really stayed with me. There’s something painful about realizing the person was there in front of you all along, and that what separated you from seeing them fully wasn’t a complete absence of truth, but all the hope layered over it.
And your thought about growth made me wonder if maturity is sometimes less about finally learning how to love “correctly,” and more about becoming able to let another person remain separate from what we need them to be. Maybe growing means needing less certainty from them—not because the earlier love was false, but because we’re slowly learning to leave more room for the person who was actually there. I’ve really enjoyed where this conversation has taken us, Vian. 🤍
Forgiving yourself for translating a partner’s regular human boundaries into a sign of dying affection offers such a comforting path toward actual, mature healing.. Xiaobian..🫶🏻🥰
Priyanshu, I really love that you brought forgiveness into this. 🥹🤍 I think one of the hardest parts wasn’t simply realizing that I had idealized him, but seeing how quickly I could turn ordinary differences into evidence that love was disappearing. Once I saw that clearly, it would have been so easy to make the whole story another reason to be ashamed of myself.
What you said about “regular human boundaries” feels especially gentle to me. He didn’t have to become the person I had written into the blanks for the love to have been real—and I didn’t have to punish myself forever for wanting that certainty so badly. Maybe some healing begins when we finally let both people become human again. 🫂
Xiaobian, I think that last thought is such a beautiful one..🩷 Healing really does begin when we allow both ourselves and the other person to be human instead of asking either of us to live up to impossible certainties. Thank you for sharing these reflections with me. They always make me think a little deeper. 🫂🫶🏻
Priyanshu, I love that our conversations keep doing this—one thought quietly opening another. 🥹🤍 What you said about “impossible certainties” stayed with me too. Maybe that’s part of what makes being human with each other so difficult: we want love to make things certain, when sometimes love is actually asking us to stay tender in the places where certainty isn’t possible.
And I feel the same about these conversations with you. I often come away seeing something in my own writing a little differently because of the way you respond to it. That feels very precious to me, dear Priyanshu. 🫂
Xiaobian, that means a great deal to me..🥰 I feel the same way. Our conversations often leave me looking at life and writing from a slightly different angle too. I think that's one of the greatest gifts of genuine connection, helping each other discover thoughts we might never have reached alone. Thank you for that, my friend. 🫂🫶🏻
Idealised relationships..is what we have learned to want through our daily lives, with the media and all..
I often think about how I loved in old, past relationships and see that it was just a form of projection..we take in what we want to fill our version..and the rest kind of gets covered in a see through white sheet..
Enough to look at it..but not enough to actually see it for what it is, themselves..
And when I look back..I see how I was just performing my idealised version of loving too.
I loved a fake version in a fake way..
Most of the time..we don't even get to the point where we can transition, you just never loved in the first place..
You just had a desire for what you wanted in that situation...and you got it.
That image of the see-through white sheet really stayed with me, Vian. There’s something painfully accurate in the idea that projection can leave just enough of the real person visible for us to believe we’re seeing them clearly, while desire quietly fills in everything else. And I really loved what you said about performing our own idealized version of loving too—that adds another layer I hadn’t put into words so directly.
Reading your comment also made me think about how complicated it is to decide where projection ends and love begins. Sometimes the feeling itself may still be completely sincere, even if the person we’re loving has been partly shaped by what we hoped to find there. Maybe that’s what makes the unraveling so painful: not discovering that nothing was real, but realizing that reality and imagination had been living inside the same feeling all along. Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful reflection with me. 🩷
I love that your response is very thoughtful, It is hard to decide where the projection ends and Love takes over. Your reflection on that was great and made me realise that, most of that pain you feel in the unravelling is the guilt of being so close to that reality....
That you were so very close. The only thing that held you back was your level of growth and maturity...
Vian, the way you described the unraveling as the guilt of having been so close to reality really stayed with me. There’s something painful about realizing the person was there in front of you all along, and that what separated you from seeing them fully wasn’t a complete absence of truth, but all the hope layered over it.
And your thought about growth made me wonder if maturity is sometimes less about finally learning how to love “correctly,” and more about becoming able to let another person remain separate from what we need them to be. Maybe growing means needing less certainty from them—not because the earlier love was false, but because we’re slowly learning to leave more room for the person who was actually there. I’ve really enjoyed where this conversation has taken us, Vian. 🤍
Me, too
Forgiving yourself for translating a partner’s regular human boundaries into a sign of dying affection offers such a comforting path toward actual, mature healing.. Xiaobian..🫶🏻🥰
Priyanshu, I really love that you brought forgiveness into this. 🥹🤍 I think one of the hardest parts wasn’t simply realizing that I had idealized him, but seeing how quickly I could turn ordinary differences into evidence that love was disappearing. Once I saw that clearly, it would have been so easy to make the whole story another reason to be ashamed of myself.
What you said about “regular human boundaries” feels especially gentle to me. He didn’t have to become the person I had written into the blanks for the love to have been real—and I didn’t have to punish myself forever for wanting that certainty so badly. Maybe some healing begins when we finally let both people become human again. 🫂
Xiaobian, I think that last thought is such a beautiful one..🩷 Healing really does begin when we allow both ourselves and the other person to be human instead of asking either of us to live up to impossible certainties. Thank you for sharing these reflections with me. They always make me think a little deeper. 🫂🫶🏻
Priyanshu, I love that our conversations keep doing this—one thought quietly opening another. 🥹🤍 What you said about “impossible certainties” stayed with me too. Maybe that’s part of what makes being human with each other so difficult: we want love to make things certain, when sometimes love is actually asking us to stay tender in the places where certainty isn’t possible.
And I feel the same about these conversations with you. I often come away seeing something in my own writing a little differently because of the way you respond to it. That feels very precious to me, dear Priyanshu. 🫂
Xiaobian, that means a great deal to me..🥰 I feel the same way. Our conversations often leave me looking at life and writing from a slightly different angle too. I think that's one of the greatest gifts of genuine connection, helping each other discover thoughts we might never have reached alone. Thank you for that, my friend. 🫂🫶🏻