I realize that I write so much because if I were to ever really say the things I’m thinking it would upset the people I know. I’ve spent a lifetime of hiding how I feel because I learned a long time ago that how I feel inadvertently or directly affects people in my span of reach. It’s a nasty habit I picked up from my mother. She spent 18 years in a marriage with my father who was the worst person for her to be married to. And she was silent. She held her tongue. She never fought back in any way shape or form. She was always worried; about doing the right thing. Though I’ve probably spent far less time than she ever concerning myself with “the right thing”; I recognize my need to be a people pleaser to an extent…so much so I will silence my own grief in order to save someone else some.
I’m always afraid of losing.I don’t know what I’m afraid of losing…but the act of losing surely does put a little fear in me. I think I’m a people hoarder. I can’t let go even if I know it’s bad for me…and if I do let go…it usually takes me years and years after a lot of damage has already been done. Maybe somewhere within me I’m still that 9 year old kid who wasn’t popular and didn’t have friends. Maybe I unknowingly place value in having friends as opposed to having quality friends.
I know this is a pretty random topic to be having at 12 in the afternoon; but really what topic isn’t? I woke up this morning with a bad taste in my mouth…thinking about a friendship I have…and though I’m not ready to go into the details of that friendship just yet…it weighs on me heavily. The fact that it weighs heavily should be all the sign I need that I probably should let it go. But…I love them. Genuinely. Always have. Even though the love has cost me a few moments of my integrity, my dignity, self respect and even my sanity. Hell of a friendship right?
But people change…and they’ve changed…I think. But I’m so busy focusing on all the shit that I’ve been hurt by I can’t decipher what’s real or not. At this point I don’t know that it’s really possible for me to call myself a friend …I love…and I love hard…but does a friend constantly have a bleak outlook about the person they call friend? That doesn’t seem right. In fact I’m pretty certain it’s not right. However…this is me…and I know that it’s going to be a few more bumps and bruises before I officially call it quits.
Sorry for this vague ass rambling of thoughts that I’m partially ready to reveal but not quite. It’s all therapy right? Tis the point.