October 20, 2009
Discarded
I think I finally know what my problem is. A lack of companionship. You know, I supposedly have this tight-knit group of friends, but we are far from that. Maybe once upon a time we were, and sometimes the illusion still exists, but there is no true sense of companionship. And that's all I want. I'm tired of people brushing off what I say. I'm tired of getting frustrated because people simply aren't listening. You know, I sit there and listen and try to give advice (which often isn't all that much), but whenever I put my two cents in it's like I get a nod and this obvious, logical response.
Life isn't about logic, people, just bear with me every once in a while.
Maybe it's because I feel like I don't have a best friend. Even though I do. He's still here. I see him everyday. But he has better things to do than to listen. Or talk. Or just be in the same room together. I remember when we were unseparable. I don't even know what that means anymore.
Okay, maybe it's not that bad. We still have our good moments, but I always feel like he's leaving me behind in the dust. Like he's constantly abandoning me.
Pathetic, right? I know. When I think about friends I've had in the past, I had no problem detatching. If we drifted apart, it was going to be okay. But this time, it hurts. Why does it hurt? Please, someone tell me, why am I afriad to turn my back on him? I did it easily enough with Dancer. And we were two peas in a pod. And I never look back. But everytime I decide to start pulling away and moving on, I hesitate. We're supposed to be the real thing. You know, the life long best friends that can sense something is wrong a mile away and always know the right thing to say. But I guess that really is a fantasy. I always was prone to be an idealist and have a good imagination. Well, it's biting me in the butt.
So yes, I need a friend. Someone to connect with. And I don't mean someone you get on with really well. I have lots of those. I mean, someone you don't mind being around even when you feel like being alone. Someone who thinks that fact that you followed Buffy in high school devoutly to be the stupidest thing in the world, but love you for it. Soemone that splits sandwitch halves with you. But I don't think that someone exists. Maybe if you don't meet them in childhood, you don't meet them at all. Maybe I missed out.
Whatever. Whatever. Whatever. WHATEVER!
Why does it matter so much? Why am I not content with the friends I have and love? What is the problem?
Whatever.
I know one thing is for sure. When Popeguy leaves for Argentina, I think I think I'm going to be relieved. I think maybe this whole time I've been holding my breath, and his departure will end that. I don't know why. I don't exactly understand it. But with him gone I'll be able to concentrate and figure out what I want. Even though I've been doing my own thing, a part of me has been living in his shadow. I've been so devouted to our friendship, so sure of it, I've just been letting myself float around. And even though I'm all about going with the flow, I can't rely on him. I can't rely on his to even study with me when he says he's going to. How can I expect to go to Grad school together? How can I expect for friendship to last a lifetime?
He always tells me that grad school and getting a job is our last hurdle and then we can settle down together. But more often than not, I think he's hoping we fail. Sometomes I feel like his burden. And I shouldn't feel that way. Not if I'm his best friend and he's mine. Or I think he's waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet so that I'll forget about him. So that he'll be free of me.
Terrible thoughts.
I miss Peace. I don't know. There's jsut something about that boy that drives me crazy and attracts me at the same time. But that's done and over and I wouldn't want it to be anyway. I don't want a boyfriend. I want a guy friend. I used to have guy friends. Where's they all go?
But they were all gay. Maybe I'm doing something wrong. Do all fag hags feel like this? That the only guy they could get is a gay guy. And he only sticks around long enough to get a boyfriend of his own and then deserts you as if you meant nothing to him. That's what I feel like. A discarded rag, no longer useful.
Where do rags go after they've been finished with? The trash last time I checked.
scullerymaid at 8:37 p.m.