I try my best to avoid the fact but I'm just going to come out and say it. I am bad at confrontation. There. I admitted it. It wasn't so hard, was it?
Unfortunately, in real life though, it really is. It's all very well to complain about stuff in an online blog that people may or may not read; a place where I am both queen and an anonymity; it's quite another to tell someone face to face that I got a problem with them. You got a problem with that, huh?!
Instead of telling people carefully and tactfully that I would like them to be on time please, or wash up please, or make an effort please, I just tell other people my tale of woe. Basically I bitch. And because I find this an appalling trait I'm going to bitch about it to you.
I don't even know what the point is. The people I complain to can't do anything about it, and they probably don't care at all. I, however, get to have my little rant without provoking the possibility of an argument, which I will always lose because I forget my very rational feelings and opinions and will want to cry. It's a problem. In fact the only person I can argue successfully with is my sister and that is only through years of practice. Besides, that's how we say I love you so it doesn't count at all.
One of my best friends, who is the most honest person I know, has no qualms about telling me when I'm being an idiot. And then it's fine again. Problem solved because I know about it. But no matter how many times she tells me to man up and have a conversation with someone...I just can't do it. Massive fail. How does she do it?!
What I do do, is have the conversation, argument, whatever, in my head several hundred times as a rehearsal. I'm always stunningly articulate and convincing and it ends beautifully with me wiping away a single glistening tear before my adversary admits their wrongdoing and has my forgiveness generously and moving bestowed...
But I can never quite remember how I started... Then it starts seeming like a good idea to write it down. Like a script, you know? I do that when I have to leave a voice message so I know it works. Means you get to have a proper practice before, and don't forget to say something crucial like what your name is.
On the other hand, if you were interrupted mid-speech, you might loose track. You could have a list of prompts of course, but that would be weird and I would be tempted to just hand over my bullet pointed list and run away. And if I'm going to do that I might as well write a letter of complaint, right?
Wrong.
Seems a shame but I cannot become a leaver of notes (SEE: I Lick My Cheese, And Other Notes From the Frontline of Flatsharing (I'm not saying I'm complaining about my flatmates...I should put that out there!)). That would make me a sorry individual and unnecessarily passive-agressive. We don't like those people.
Note to self: we also don't like a bitch so stop it.
What is the point, I ask myself, of relationships without communication? You see, I know in theory how it works, but in practice I'd rather the communication be about what would happen in the roof caved in, or how to make crumble. Did you know that when Jack the Ripper...?
What would be ideal would be if people regularly asked me what was bothering me about them, and as an incentive told me how I was annoying in return. Bish bash bosh...everyone's happy, chests cleared, laundry aired.
The worst of it is that sometimes I want to say something nice to someone and I can't do that either. It sticks in the throat. I'm very much a fan of the neutral. The safe. The impersonal.
It is personal though I suppose, life. I should probably admit it eventually.
So I have a question: you want to talk?
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