Lack of Genuine
There are days, times, specific situations, even people, that have made me aware of how we can be so removed from how we are making others feel.
So often the thought of self pity strikes, the "why me" questioning to the universe, and thinking that no one is as genuine as they portray. It's easy to get stuck here, in the realm of blaming others' for our current state or mood. I am all too guilty of letting others' actions have a personal affect on my outlook and it can change within minutes.
From what I have gathered, mainly from being single, is that most of us are not actually interested in a real connection, just temporary ones. We are fixated on what will come next, we put our door stoppers in our back pocket just in case the door we actually want to open, opens. Subconsciously, we like to watch others endure a hurt that we deem to be too good for our own selves. I think that we forget how human the next person is, we just write individuals off as "crazy" or "complacent" when really it boils down to "it was not a good match".
I speak in terms of plurality because it would be unjust of me to wrongfully say that everyone but myself conveys these types of inconsiderations; I myself am guilty of only participating in an interaction if I know that I am due to benefit in some way. Maybe we do not always know the other persons' story.
The hardest pill to swallow has been trying to understand when someone who you want, does not want you back. It's the vicious game that so, well, too many, of us play with each other, whether it's out self protection or genuine unawareness. Sometimes the frustration of trying to create a life amongst such individualistic souls is disheartening because you come down to very little meaningful interactions on a consistent basis.
I have a hard time understanding why we have a favor in dragging out things that could have otherwise seen a shorter existence with less harm done.
Sometimes I think that we love to build others up so that we can quietly watch as they take their fall.