And so it is....

Strange days indeed.

So, my introspective nature is causing strange demons lately, as some of you may have noticed. I try hard to push things out of mind and wish that everything and everyone was not a constant reminder of something that once was. I haven’t been completely truthful with myself or with others and I am willing to accept and attempt to change that. I tend to feel guilty about honesty sometimes. (The funny thing is that just as I typed the word ‘honesty’, “Policy of Truth” came on that pesky Launchcast).

I had dinner with Rackamoni tonight. He brought D up in conversation. Which, a couple of months ago, would have made me insanely happy that he had spoken to her (because they are both very intelligent and fun to talk to), but today it left a sour taste in my mouth. I am angry with her. I am angry that, through everything I feel I have done, she has abandoned a friendship. Sometimes, I don’t care (after all, we have very little in common and are in two completely different places in life), but sometimes, I just think…damn, she’s a bitch. The funny thing is, I don’t feel at all responsible for this. I feel that our friendship was diminishing quickly in the last months and her brother didn’t help things.

He and I were a lot alike, actually. He was insecure and lonely, I was insecure and felt abandoned and sad. We got along well. I think she felt threatened. And I think she blamed me for his advances. I am not the advancing type. I wait for what I want. Patience is a virtue. And, even though it sometimes kills me, I maintain. So clearly, even if I had wanted to, I wouldn’t have had the audacity to try and start anything with him. But he had that audacity. He made things impossible. I don’t blame him, I blame me. But I blame her too for being so weak as to let him destroy us.

That said, I can move on.

Facing as much loss as I have in the last two years, losing D isn’t as bad as it would have been before. I can accept that she isn’t a friend to me. I saw it coming long before him. In her inability to care about my problems, to listen, to be compassionate. I have dealt with things alone all along, and have become content with that. But it does tend to make me cynical about friendships. And it does tend to make me wonder who really knows me at all.