“But hurry, let's entwine ourselves as one, our mouth broken, our soul bitten by love, so time discovers us safely destroyed.”
—Federico Garcia Lorca
When will we learn that there's nothing to fix?
Until we do, we will keep looking for the fix in each other. And being so disappointed.
Loving is a good thing, a good good good thing, the best thing. Maybe the only thing. But loving is not enabling. Loving is not sacrificing. Loving is not trying to fix.
Trying to fix someone else is saying two things that are the worst possible things to say:
You're broken, and you need to be fixed.
You're so broken that you're unable to fix yourself.
We do need each other, but not because we can fix each other.
We need each other to remind us that we are worth the trouble, the effort, the pain of fixing ourselves.
Then we get the choice to believe or not. To lay down in the rut because it's so deep, or stop going in circles long enough to see another option, a way out, and start climbing.
I don't think the point is to get out of the rut. The rut doesn't matter. The point is to get our heads up enough to see beyond the rut—to see that there are endless ruts and grooves and patterns, valleys and mountains, infinite options, endless paths, and we can stay or go as we will, and it's up to us—and there's nothing to fix. There's just what we choose, and what we think about our own choices.