feeling absolutely disgusted at myself.
Months after months I’d yell at myself in my head, “Could you please write something?! You’re going to be fucking depressed at this rate.” *chuckles*
Well here I am now, trying to save myself.
Bit delayed, don’t you think?
Anyho, I really really want to type a certain issue out. Well, one reason so I can see the problem (literally) and another was to share. I was hoping I am not the only one.
I was hoping I am not the only one who is so bloody afraid of being hurt. Oh no, not the “oh my god she said my sweater colour matched her diarrhoea” kind of hurt. More like the oh-my-god-i-can’t-fucking-believe-she’s-gone-from-my-life kind.
I have a best friend who’s been with me for 4 years and almost 5 in fact. Well, we knew each other for 9 I guess. But I undoubtedly take granted of her existence. I’m so accustomed to have someone listening to me cry about my problems, listening to me yell about people that had just annoyed me in the past 5 minutes. We don’t see each other often, but I really do know she will stick around.
That’s not the problem here. (actually “she’s” not) We left each other’s schooling life after middle school(I’m using the American system here) and had to go to different high schools. She was still there for me, but of course, she had her own life that I wished not to interfere in. We frequented calls, texted occasionally, but I knew that I couldn’t just depend on her entirely. The first year of high school had me pushing everyone away, refusing to make friends. Why? Because… well… I had the best Friend in the world. Nobody could compare.
It took me a year to find out that with that mentality, I would die. Not literally but you get me. Well, the second year was okay, I made friends with many people. I couldn’t believe it myself. I had people to eat lunch with, people to work on projects with. I thought my life was… well, perfect.
Then I fell out with my best friend. The sequence of events are a bit messed up here, but in my angry and needy, desperate state, I found myself a new “best friend”. He was a transfer student. He had an accent, he held himself in high regard. Nobody liked him. I didn’t initially. He totally baited me with BBC’s Sherlock. So we started talking. I’m not sure when we started, but it felt so long.(in truth, it was less than a year) We talked everyday, WhatsApp-ed actually. But I opened up to him. I told him things I didn’t tell anyone. My insecurities, my passions, my dreams. I was contented. There was someone who listened. I didn’t have a best friend to listen to me everyday, and she wouldn’t know how I really feel if I said “Oh Tim in class is a total dickshit” because she wasn’t in class.
In fact, I did complain a lot about my amazing best friend to him. And that is one thing I really wish I didn’t do. Things were going well and I actually grew the cheek to call him my “guy best friend”. HUGE fucking cringe. We sailed past the year. Like I said, everything was going fine. Until I heard he had a crush on me.
Dear God, this is embarrassing. Like some stupid teenage movie crap. But it happened. I wasn’t very happy about it because he didn’t even mention it. I was supposed to know like, everything about him like how he knew me. But it looked like I didn’t. Then it started.
I started interrogating him. What was he not telling me? He denied everything. He said he had nothing to say. He was plain, boring, not as interesting as me. I hated it. I felt like an object of his amusement. Not only that, in fact, I heard from ELSEWHERE, not himself, that he’s been calling me a “slut” to other people.
Well, “slut” is not a very nice thing to call someone. I have not slept with anyone. And for fuck’s sake, the only guy I was talking to at that time was him. What an asshole.
Following that, more horrendous and ugly secrets aroused. He had been telling others of my… me. He’s been telling them things I told him. That were obviously fucking private you dick. Things went slightly out of hand. We fought.
Then we stopped talking.
I told him to “get the fuck out of my life“. I felt intruded. I felt unsafe. He didn’t for the next year or so. He impersonated me on Steam. I didn’t know for what, but it caught my attention and I brought my friends up against him. I was fucking distraught. I felt so fucking violated. He was talking about me too. He kept talking about me to other people. I seriously hated it. I hated it so bad. I felt worthless and like shit every day of my fucking life. Then I sent him a text. The “once and for all” text. He didn’t really get the hint. Instead, he blamed me for making him friendless. I was kind of like his only friend. I had enough then.
I ignored him and everything he did from then on. Something I should have done earlier, but me being me. I’m just a puppet of my emotions. I can never control them.
But that’s okay. I got rid of him. In fact, I managed that because he found new friends. Thank God. So his problem was just that… he was lonely. I don’t forgive him for all he’s done, but I’ve moved on from that phase.
After my little fight with Original Bestie, (it lasted perhaps a month?) she stuck with me through this whole Guy Best Friend Shit. I am eternally thankful for that. She knows me inside-out and honestly, I am spoiled by her care. I don’t think I will ever be able to live without her. Cheesy. But true.
Well, Original Bestie aside, I have someone else to thank. After that fiasco, I just felt so horrible and so… I couldn’t bring myself to trust anymore. I felt like shit. I shut all doors. My face turned into a permanent, unapproachable frown. Third year in school, I met this guy. I’m gonna cut the long story short because it’s been really long now, but he saved me. I was so broken from the previous friendship. When he entered my life, for the first month, I was all suspicious. Was he there to make me feel worse? No. I wouldn’t do it again. So I bordered myself up.
Dude’s a damn huge border himself. To be so damn honest, he intrigued me. I wondered if he had been through some Earth-shattering(HA HA) trust issue like myself to turn into some damn Great Wall. We started talking. It was really quite painstaking. We were both cautious, both scared. All we could do was have a slight banter, share a laugh or two. We never transversed beyond that. It was like a silent rule. There were times when he was down, and I could just feel it. But I couldn’t do anything about it. It just sucked. This continued for about half a year. Then the impersonation thing came about. He helped me through that. Perhaps it kind of broke the barrier.
We got closer, and we started to talk more beyond the surface things. And I thank God that he’s there for me to count on when I feel like absolute shit. It’s so hard to explain, but there were little gestures that happened on a frequent basis that I am so so SO thankful for. He never asked beyond what I wish to share. I felt respected. I felt like a normal… person.
I can’t elaborate further without boring you guys to death but here’s what I wanted to talk about;
There are people in this world. That I love so dearly, that I actually use my phone for.(rEALLY) People that I wouldn’t mind just sitting in silence with. People that are the reason I am still here, able to type this. And I’m just so so fucking scared. So scared of loving. Inside my head, I believe that I am the only one who’s hanging tightly onto the other person. Like an over-attached pesticide. As much as I say I know my best friend will stay with me, I’m still scared. I can’t imagine going on with life without her. And Border Dude. I know he’s leaving. Soon, or not soon, I don’t know. But I know that I’m not a permanent fixture in his life. I’m just here for the time being. And it fucking hurts. To know one day that my phone will be silent the whole day, to know that one week is actually so short.
I hope I’m not the only one but, I am so horrible at expressing myself. If someone says “I’m leaving” and they actually expect to be stopped, I will get the hint. “Oh they want to be stopped. I should stop them.” but it will end up like “Sure. Go.” . Just because I feel like I’m not enough. I can’t stop people from leaving. I’m not good enough a reason for them to stay. Why should they stay with someone who just isn’t worth anything? All I do is repress my feelings. I love the shit out of my friends, but I don’t say it. It comes out all wrong. Because of that, because I don’t have the damned guts to stop people from leaving that I’m so damn scared. I’m scared of saying goodbye. I’m scared of starting anything. I don’t want to love. (just let me love my books please)
Love is a drug, as corny and typical as it may sound.
You feel so damn good when your object of love is here.
But when it’s gone you’re down in the dumps.
It is impossible to not love.