Complicated Like That

Lonely

When I was 6 years old, I came home after school one day and cried into my pillow for what felt like the longest time. Usually, I would bubble with excitement thinking about what great adventure would take place in my front yard. I would walk home singing and as soon as I got home, the fun began. However, on that day, I felt a sinking feeling in my heart. I couldn't really understand why I was so upset but the only thought that played in my head was that no one loved me. No one even bothered to check if little me was okay. I cried myself to sleep and when I woke up. The feeling was muted - still there but silent. I guess that was the first time I ever felt lonely ... Well not quite lonely ... more like ... alone. Like no one was ever really going to be there for me.

I didn't realise how much of our early life experiences take anchor in our soul and make us who we are today. When I was 15 and in high school, I found myself crying into my pillow for the same reason. No one really liked me or wanted to hang out with me. That's not to say that I haven't had friends. I've had a mixture of individuals over my life. But some way or the other, we fell apart. In high school, my best friend of 11 years decided that she no longer wanted anything to do with me. And of course, at the time I believed that I did everything I could to remedy the situation. But the truth is that we were just different people who saw the world very differently and because we couldn't understand why the other was different, we were always going to drift away from each other. We were too young back then to understand this. But looking back, I have no regrets. Our friendship was good while it lasted but it wasn't a genuine friendship. We never clicked, we were just ... there, present. And that's how simple it was.

To be honest, my friendships have only occurred because there was something forcing us to be friends. Either, we were in the same class or stayed together or attended campus together. There was some external barrier that forced us to make do with what we had. Granted, the friends I've had were all pretty solid. I just wanted more. I always want more. I wanted someone who deepen my mind and soul, to be abstract and mysterious. Yeah, it was great having someone to mess around and laugh with. But I wanted something ... deeper and real. The bond over having similar interests and views is paper-thin and inadequate to sustain a longlasting and meaningful relationship.

And no, saying your significant other is also your best friend is stupid. Who are you going to, to rant about your relationship? Having a partner who understands you and connects with you is great but it is not a supplement for having a friend. Everyone needs some other person outside of their romantic or family relationships to hang out with. It's how we keep our sanity and dissociate with the burdens of everyday life. It's healthy and everyone needs a break to leave work, home and whatever else. And then, everyone needs a break from being social - some alone time. Without friends, there's no buffer between anything.

Growing up though, means coming to terms with new changes. Challenging your ideas of how the world or society works. When I was 20 years old, a university friend and I decided to drink and sat in my bed starring at the ceiling. It wasn't long before our alcohol rich blood turned our jokes into deep confessions we were afraid to say out loud. I remember the tears rolling down my face when I confessed that I've never felt like someone's best friend. And yes, she shot me down and told me that I was her best friend. But as time passed, so did the distance between us. Now, here I am 4 years later wondering how she's doing.

I wish it was as easy as texting her, as making that small effort to be a part of her life. Except, I have, for the past 3 years, I have gone out of my way making the effort for her. I went out for her birthday and bought her gifts and no that's not what I'm asking of her. I don't want her gifts or for us to hang out with her boyfriend who she spends already so much of time with. All I want is for her to make time. As much as I haven't been keeping tabs on her, it's not like she was keeping tabs on me. I guess it just ... really made me miss him. And I hate it. I hate that I even thought of him.

God, we had a good thing. We just ... had to ruin it. You know it's weird having a guy as a best friend because they don't really let you bitch and complain about things. They just provide you with logical insight and solutions. Neither of which I want yet for some reason, there's no one else I picture sitting in my purple room, eating chocolate and talking sit with. He was a great listener, mostly because he didn't actually care. It was all meaningless and nothing to him but I, like a child fooled myself into thinking he did. Maybe that's why I can't seem to hate him. I only hate myself. I mean, he did a lot of fucked up things and he did really hurt me more than he would ever know. But I also toxic and manipulative. We never know what forms our childhood traumas will take when they inevitably resurface. I was absolutely terrified of losing him. And in my efforts to keep the friendship, drove him even further.

Is this all that will ever be?

Am I just an endless scrapbook of all the people who touched my life and moved on?

Is all I have just a collection of heartbreaks and irrelevant paintings, wrappings of old gifts I once recieved and sour goodbyes?

What I'm trying to say is ... is it me?

Am I the problem?

Do people just leave or do I push them away?

And people come and go in life, I get that. Believe me, I know what it's like to pour your soul into people just to have them leave anyway. But, the same twisted demon who lures me into turning my tears into blood calls to me. Like a sick, callous siren that feeds on my very insecurities. In my defence, who isn't insecure every now and then? It's basic human nature ... I need to stop. I think the problem is that I'm expecting someone to magically appear with keys to all the doors I've been banging on trying to open. But that's not going to happen and I need to accept that. I know I have no one but maybe that's okay. Maybe that's enough.

Maybe I'm enough.

If I can be surrounded my people and still feel lonely, then the only person who will make me not feel that way is me. So maybe it's not that I've been lonely my whole life and maybe there is no childhood trauma resurfacing. Maybe the demon calling me was just inner me screaming for acknowledgement, for kindness, for love.

Maybe I just need to be loved or ... maybe I need to love myself.