Avoidance
I have this plant I keep giving water almost every week. I never forget, each time I see it, I water it. it became a habit, automatic. today I was somewhere else entirely. I had fallen into my head, and I needed anything to pull me out of my own head. And when I saw the plant today, it was empty. dry in a way I hadn’t seen before. maybe for the first time since I got it. I had been watering it recently. I know I had. but I hadn’t looked at it, not really, in a long time. not stopped to notice it the way I used to. the plant didn’t remind me of itself. it reminded me of everyone. all the ones who are gone now, I started to trace how they left, and every line I followed led back to the same place. I had been present enough to maintain things, present enough to keep the habit, but somewhere along the way I had gone fully inside myself, into that sealed interior where nothing outside can reach me. and in that withdrawal, I let things die slowly. not from cruelty but from absence. maybe you’re still doing the motions, still watering the plants, still showing up in some technical sense. but you’re not there, and people feel that, even when you don’t. and then you come back one day and find the room already empty, the distance already permanent, and nothing you can say accounts for the time you were gone. I was the one that shot on everything I loved. over many moments of not looking, not stopping, not being willing to step outside myself long enough to appreciate what was still alive in front of me. I don’t know what to do with that yet. but I know I keep coming back to the plant. like maybe if I look at it long enough now, something counts.
Looking back at my experiences, I can now see that my pattern was never about avoiding responsibility itself. That was the story I told myself for years. The deeper concern was something else entirely. It was about avoiding the spotlight.
Among all the emotions I carry, disappointment sits in its own category, the one I least want to experience. I don’t feel it often, and that is not an accident. I don’t place people in positions where they can disappoint me, I don’t expect much from anyone, and I don’t let just anyone close enough to matter, something I’ve written about before in my defensive nature . on top of that, I’ve built a bubble around myself, overly selective about my environment, deliberate about who gets near it. I wrote about this at the opening of not broken but suboptimal . but none of that makes me immune. you cannot fully program your life. mistakes will happen. people you never invited will find their way in, and sometimes you won’t notice until it’s already too late.
A friend sent a link to our group chat at midnight on the last day of 2025. I joined along with everyone else. Mahmoud was there. it had been a long time since we were all in one place, even if it was virtual. the call lasted three hours. we caught up, we laughed, we updated each other on life in the casual way people do when they pretend time has not passed.
It started with a friend (North) asking me a simple question about how I form relationships. something I had never stopped and wondered about. that led to me doing some introspection, and I wrote this at the time: Adding New Friends Systems .
Recently, a friend (North) told me something that summarized almost every failed attempt I had at explaining myself in relationships. he said although I wonder around and communicate, I am not dependent on being loved, and I am not dependent on being liked by everyone. and indeed I do not move through life chasing validation or needing reassurance that I matter.