It’s always weird when a relationship is built around some sort of mutual denial. Of something. It’s almost as though the relationship couldn’t exist (at least, not in its current form) without this almost contractual consent to “don’t go there.” Like there is some secret command string, which, if uttered in its entirety, could cause the complete unraveling of the relationship.

So instead, this shared silence becomes the axis of your orbit together. The hollow space in the middle of a wheel, which allows it to roll… At least to roll in a controlled fashion under the guidance of an axel. Wheels can roll on their own, of course, but they will just roll away from you. Down the street, down the hill, whatever.

I don’t know if this empty space I’m describing is really necessary though. I’m wagering it’s not. Since relationships are not, in fact, wheels. But then, I’ve never had a relationship where I didn’t know the command sequence to initiate a self-destruct. Friendships, yes - relationship no. And in my friendships which do exist without this mutual denial, I wonder is it a quality of the friendship itself, or a quality of the people within it?

Something else I just thought of… when these relationships built around mutual denial, when they fail - and they eventually must - the first thing which comes to the fore, the immediately descriptive characteristic of the relationship, becomes this thing. This denied issue, now turned inside out. It becomes easy to say “This relationship failed because of this…” While, at the time, it felt like not addressing that issue was one of the only things truly still holding you together.

Maybe its because sometimes all we want is somebody to share in our illusions for a little while.