In middle school, I had three people who I considered my closest friends. Emily, Michelle, and Manjot. I still consider these girls to be some of the most intelligent people in my life, and I'm exponentially proud to call them my friends. On Friday night, I had the longest conversations I've had in a while with Michelle and Manjot due to an irritation with the people I usually talk to, and I realized how much I miss these girls. They were my roots, and I had gone running back to them. Sometimes I forget how much I value them.
I wouldn't know these girls if it wasn't for Mr. Coleman. I really really hate when something bad happens and people start having existential crises, like when a teenager commits suicide and the entire school goes to the funeral when, really, the kid had a handful of good friends because they were bullied so extremely. But when I heard Mr. Coleman had died, my first thought was where would I be without him. I wouldn't be friends with who I'm friends with, I wouldn't think of myself as a 'writer', I wouldn't be in STAC. I guess that's the only justifiable reason I think it's okay to talk about on here.
I was irritated with my friends on Friday because no one had talked to me. No one messaged me, texted, etc. A not-so-well-kept secret of mine is that I get unjustly paranoid when people don't contact me. I won't go into it, but I have a rejection complex. So, when people don't contact me my first instinct is that they don't want to talk to me. 95% of the time, the fact that I interact with people with who don't like initiating conversation or are extremely busy is the reason, but I digress. It cyclically pisses me off. For example, Julian usually gets the brunt of my irritation because he hates being the first one to say 'hello' and I've yelled at him for it over three times in the past few months. I'm kind of clingy. I Hate Being Clingy. But a distaste for an aspect of my personality doesn't extinguish the trait, and thus I still have my moments. When I can, though, I try to thwart showing how upset I am.
That is a nice way of saying that I avoid them. Mostly because I think they're avoiding me. I'm crazy, don't question the crazy. So this time, I avoided them by talking to Manjot and Michelle.
The thing is, I wasn't expecting them to make me feel better. Not knocking them, they're great, but when you don't want to drink orange juice you don't expect to like it. But they did, they made me feel great. They both write, and Michelle does art, so it's not like they're any less messed up than the people I usually hang out with, but it was honestly like a breath of fresh air. And after talking to them, I feel a bit more level-headed. Full disclosure, I still haven't talked to my normal group. I'm still upset with them. This is kind of my passive aggressive way of saying it because I hate confrontation yet I feel like I need to get it out.
"You Get So Alone at times that it Just Makes Sense" is the name of a collection by Bukowski. I feel like the title explains me pretty well. I get this way where I think I don't need anyone, or, if I do then it's none of their business if I need them. When I'm upset with people, I get pretty freaking depression. Sorry. But it's also a bit empowering, because I give up for a little bit on talking and sometimes it's good to rely on yourself and your own walls to hold you up. Sure, I went to Manjot and Michelle, but it helped me realize I don't need the people I thought to save me. No one is completely necessary. Not saying I'm dropping anyone, but taking a few days alone isn't bad. I guess this is me saying I don't feel like a package deal anymore.
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