If anything can go wrong, it will.

Friends

Sleep, Sweet Sleep

Last night, for the first time in about two weeks (seriously, it’s a shame we Americans don’t use the term “fortnight”) I was finally able to sleep mostly straight through the night. I’d been trying to go to bed at my normal time each night, but at best I’d doze off and wake up anxious an hour or two later, unable to get back to sleep.

I  really don’t recommend trying to function this way.

This morning, though, I feel rested. Alert. My head isn’t foggy, my limbs aren’t heavy, and my heart doesn’t feel like it’s been working overtime. It’s lovely. It’s amazing what a little sleep can do, and how little you appreciate what it does when you’re doing it normally.

Since I’m feeling so good, hopefully I can knock out some things on my ever-growing  to-do list! Keeping busy may have the added bonus of providing me with a solid reason to avoid a certain friend of mine, as well.

Ugh.

I must be doing something really wrong, because it seems as if it’s just one thing after another with my friends, lately. Surely the common denominator is just me, when all of it seems to be going wrong at once?

A few days ago, a certain friend of mine asked me for a favour. It was an odd favour, to be sure, but odd doesn’t necessarily mean bad, and it seemed innocent enough. At least it did until the following day when he confessed something that, to me, seems directly connected to the favour he asked for, even though he swears it isn’t. The confession caused the favour he asked for to seem inappropriate, even disturbing and downright creepy. Now I feel sort of used… and manipulated. And I’m finding I really don’t want to speak to said friend.

Ooh, could I be more vague? The whole thing is so weird that I feel awkward and embarrassed just by nature of it having happened to me.

Again, though, all these things going wrong with friends all at once, surely I’m somehow the problem. The only thing they’ve had in common is me.

The Break-Up

I’ve been broken up with. Via email, no less.

I have had a friend with whom I’ve been having a hard time lately, and it’s been the source of much sadness and frustration. When I opened my email today to discover that she has finally “had enough” of me, I was surprised to find it didn’t hurt.

Not even a little.

What I felt was relief. And it’s not the end of the friendship that has me sad, but the observation that the end of it should make me sad.

I consider myself to be a good friend, although the evidence may not be in my favour, what with this being the second friend I’ve lost in as many months. At least this time I’ve a lengthy list of reasons outlining all the things which I’ve done wrong.

On a somewhat interesting side note, though, most of this list could serve double duty as “How To Spot An Introvert”.

I believe that friendship, or any relationship, should be a two-way street. There should be a balance of give and take. I have always tried my best to be the kind of friend that I hope to have. I am far from perfect, but my relationships are important to me, and I do try. In the same way that I make the efforts to recognise and be considerate of the needs of my friends, though, I hope, even expect, that they should do that for me.

At the very least, if you’re unwilling to do the kinds of things that I think are fun, and that I get excited about, then understand that I can’t always do the ones that you find fun. It isn’t that I don’t enjoy participating in large group activities, or that I don’t like being around people. It’s that these things, as entertaining as they can be now and then, are also draining for me.

A Reason or a Season

Mended Heart

People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

I don’t know why it happened, I received nothing in the way of explanation, but I lost a friend overnight.

I like to pretend that things like this don’t phase me when they happen. I like to pretend that I’m the kind of person who can just laugh it off and say “Well, fuck you, then, if you don’t want to be my friend”. The only problem is, fantastic imagination or not, I really can’t pretend that well, not about that.

If I’ve done something wrong, I’m the kind of person who prefers that you tell me so. I’m not one to set out to be intentionally mean or offensive, so if I have wronged you in some way, please tell me how. How does a person learn from their mistakes if they’re not even sure what mistake they’ve made? I’m well aware that I’m an imperfect person, but I can’t grow or change if I don’t have my flaws pointed out.

In simply writing me off with no explanation, my former friend has made it reasonably clear to me that he doesn’t wish to talk about it, or work it out, whatever “it” is. I suppose there’s not much that I can do but stitch up the little hole in my heart his absence leaves.

A little part of me wonders if, maybe, there’s some strange reason that he wants me to “chase” him down and demand to know the issue, but that’s not really my way, and I guess I sort of expect that people who know me, friends, would know this about me.

It’s not that I don’t care… it’s that he doesn’t. Or at least that’s what the behaviour indicates to me.