Musings of a Wannabe Terminator

Is there really such a thing as giving too much? I find it difficult to cut off from people I haven't explored fully. As though I'm afraid I'll have missed out on some amazing part of them.
It bites at me when people refuse to care. S, for instance. Sometimes I resent whatever stupid reason he may have for not communicating. Then I remember all the times he's been unabashedly honest with me. The incredible potential he has shown to be clear and open. It hurts when we are distant. I'm not accusing, tis a fact. And tis a hurt I accept.
And Him. He bites at me too. Oh, the constant bickering and fruitless doses of 'I don't care so sue me!' These are people I would like to have comfortable silences with. I'm terrible at pretending so both of them get generous doses of love from me. And they find it a leetle hard to digest.
What to do?
I refuse to edit myself.
S, I suppose is afraid I will try to slip back into my old role. I wish there was some coherent way of telling you S, that intimacy need not be stuffed into neat little Relationship Boxes.
And Him! So terrified of trusting that every bit of softness and openness we share must be overbalanced by some kind of clash.
You know what? They've a right to be scared, edgy, uncomfortable etc. And I've a right to be intense, hyper-sensitive and shamelessly honest. I'm no martyr, whatever I give is freely given, by choice. And I'm secure enough not to worry that I'm giving away more than is good for me. Or maybe naive enough. Right now I'm mad at both of them. I'm mad at a world where everything is over-casual.