Tag: friendship

Why I Liked “The Girl I Like”

She was troubled.  She came from abuse and did things in her life that she regretted deeply and hates herself for.  She was an habitual liar, likely as a result of covering for horrible things since she was very young.  She went from calling and texting every day to giving no fucks at all with nothing in between, presumably because she’d found someone else she found more exciting.

 

But she was also the most fun and exciting person I’ve ever known.  She had an amazing sense of humour.  She felt everything so intensely, whether good or bad there were no buffers, nothing she held back.  When she was happy she was positively blissful, her joy was the most pure I’d ever known from anyone.  The closest I could describe it was like an excited puppy.

 

Of course, that meant her downers were just as severe – countless suicide attempts, self harm, drug addictions etc.

 

She was someone I could tell anything to without judgement, and who told me (but also pretty much anyone who asked) anything at all and knew I wouldn’t judge.  She knows more about me than anyone in this world except my ex, and I probably am in the top 3 or 5 for knowing all there is about her.

 

When she stopped calling or replying to my texts, I was torn.  How can you tell when someone’s pushing you away because they’re lost in their own tornado of depression versus when they’re genuinely no longer interested in being your friend?  I told myself that if it was the former and something happened, I’d never forgive myself.  So I kept worrying about her and texting and once in a while got a reply, many hours alter.  I got to speak to her for a grand total of 2 minutes and twenty seconds on the phone the other day, in which she told me everything’s going great and that she’d gotten some great news weeks before (but didn’t bother to share with me), then made a fishy-sounding excuse and went.

 

But still, I love her very much and wish her all the best.  She makes everyone else seem boring in comparison.  I just need to accept she doesn’t want to be friends anymore and move on.  And that hurts so much it’s unreal.

Temporary people leaving permanent memories

 

I know how some people aren’t in your life forever, that they’re just passing through.  But for some reason, I figured that was for other people and not me.  But here I am, scrolling through my Twitter feed and reading about a former friend’s new besties.  She says they’re “her life”.  I remember spending nights texting you and on the phone to you, giving you reasons to live when you were struggling.  I remember us confessing our darkest secrets to each other.  I remember watching fireworks with you, going climbing through woods with you.  I remember when things were at their worst between myself and my now-ex, you handmaking me a birthday card, giving me a big hug and whispering “please don’t kill yourself” into my ear, making me cry.

 

You got a new job, made new friends and just like that I was gone.  Awful fake excuses were made to avoid meeting up, and just like that we weren’t friends anymore.

 

The Girl I Liked, and still do even through she hurt me and some switch flicked in her head stopping her from caring.  If she ever did.  I wish I knew what I did to make her stop calling and texting and wanting to meet up or even doing me the basic courtesy of replying to me when I’m worried sick about her and her baby.  I run through all our interactions in my head on loop at night, trying desperately to find something.  I can be so oblivious sometimes, I can miss huge obvious things.  I wish I knew what was going on inside her head.  I can never be with you but I always want you in my life.  You were so good for my mental health and you were FUN, more fun than anyone else.  You lit up my day when you were around, made me the me of years ago before I became Eeyore.

 

I’ve got Facebook open and see you’re active now, messaging other people and not thinking about me at all.  I remember sitting with you while you got that tattoo a couple of weeks ago.  I remember going with you while you got your eyes examined years ago, walking you home from your first day at college, sitting with you and psyching you up for your first ever job interview.  Sitting with you and calming you down after your family embarrassed you in front of me and it broke your heart.  I remember the chocolate rabbit you got me, out of the blue, the first gift you ever got me.  I remember the day you were so depressed and I got you a t-shirt that you wanted even though it was way too big for you – and I remember the second time I saw you when we reconnected and you were wearing it, and a few weeks after giving birth it fit perfectly.  I remember the day you casually said to me as we were walking down the street, “you know I love you, right?”

 

Is it me?  Something I say or do?  I’m depressed as fuck a lot of the time and I know it shows.  I know that’s off-putting but is it really enough?  Is it because I told her she didn’t owe me anything after she told me how seriously she takes personal debts?  Maybe she just has a new best friend?  Another old friend back in her life, perhaps?

 

My ex, I understand why you cut me off, it’s better for both our sanity that we not try to be friends.  We wanted to be, but all it brought us was pain.

 

I feel awful right now.  Worse than anyone knows.  I won’t kill myself, because I believe that as long as I’m alive, no matter how bad things get, there’s a chance it’ll get better.  It has done once before when I was right on the edge.  A wonderful girl made me a birthday card and gave me a hug and reminded me that I mattered to some people.  She’s moved on now, but who knows what the future might bring?

Am I an Attention Whore?

A long time ago, I was happy.  My happiness came from within, a contented feeling from having achieved more in life (as incredibly modest those things were by anyone else’s standards) than I ever thought possible.  But as I became moderately popular in my little circle of friends, something gradually changed.  My happiness stopped coming from within, and instead came from how I was seen and treated by those around me.

 

Which means I’m happy when I’m surrounded by friends, and depressed as fuck when I’m alone.  I take it ridiculously hard when friends go out without inviting me, or don’t reply to texts.  I’m the guy who never gets the hint to leave because I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.  I even get jealous when I’m not someone’s best friend – and yes, I realize how weird and fucked up and unhealthy these thoughts are.  People have friends and people more important than me and they’re allowed to.  They’re allowed to go out and hang with people that aren’t me and have a good time, just like I sometimes go out with people that don’t include them and have a good time too.

 

So why, if I can understand this intellectually, does it still hurt so much every time I’m left out?