After all this thinking and rethinking about things, one thing is most definitely certain: I still love to dance, albeit not in the company of THEM. It's kind of sad too, because I used to know someone who was a great dancer; turns out she wasn't as great a friend.
Come to think about it, I used to know a lot of people. Some people I highly regarded and lauded for being around. Shit, how blind must I have been to it all.
I can't wait to move on up out of Southwestern, so I don't have even slightly worry about remotely glimpsing the silhouette of a pathetic memory better off forgotten. Just imagining the possibility makes me cringe.
For a while, I was continually shoveling myself deeper and deeper into chaos; both in mind and spirit. I was doing things I thought I would have never done, told myself I would NEVER do.
But I did.
And of all people, someone who really catched me when I let them fall, over and over again, still stands by side to this day.
Never once had I felt so blessed and yet so cursed. It is as is I'm a painter, trying to paint my own requiem.
All of it I contribute to my own personal decisions. I made the choices, thus I reap the consequences. I lost many "friends" throughout my inner navigation of self. Up to this day it hurts. Not because I lost any friends, but because there was nothing to lose from the beginning.
It was just my childish imagination playing games on my emotional empathy. I cared too much, and ended not caring at all at the end.
The girl that called me during work because of problems with her boyfriend. Once one of my strongest creative drives. Gone. The girl who hugged me as we waited in front of a church during the procession of a fallen friend. Once one of my strongest physical drives. Gone. The girl who I went to the edge of a cliff with right next to the rising tide. Once one of my strongest pragmatic drives. Gone. The girl who once told me that she herself was hard to explain. The source of a lot of my current maturity. Gone.
All because of what...
Deceit, backstabbing, shit-talking, defection? I thought our friendships meant more to you all than that. But I've been proven wrong. Over and over and over again. So now, as this Thanksgiving draws near, I have but one thing to thank God for:
Making me see the reality that none of you were ever truly my friend.
And now neither am I yours.
I hope you all are happy. Because I know I am. Finally admitting to this burden I've carried for years gives me the ability to grasp life in ways that I could have never provoked myself into doing before.
Free from it all. And enjoying every second of it.
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The trolley I rode into downtown this afternoon ran over a man. While his wife and child (I'm assuming) sat down and cried.
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