So last week I had an unplanned sleepover at one of my college best friend’s house (I somehow have to differ them from my junior high best friends, just because they give me.. different benefits?). It’s the follow-up rendezvous from the promised lunch meeting because it seems like we haven’t satisfied ourselves from our longing for each other. Aw.
Few weeks before it I was having serious trouble with my personality, insecurity, me being socially needy, and how I never feel satisfied of the presence of my boyfriend. Long story short, I was crushed, and I cannot see that it is anybody’s fault but mine. By that sleepover time, I was still in my attempt to heal and maturing myself, until now, actually, so I cannot stop my self from being such a whining whore telling stories to anyone possible after earlier analyzing if they’re potentially judiciary.
Still, I’m a really really insecure bitch like a cat who gets suspicious with everyone that takes a step closer to her, even when that person holds good intention like giving her food or a soft pat on the head, even, if it means I have to stay hungry for the lack of my skill to take care of myself or I have to spend the night sleeping in coldness without anyone’s caress on my thin fur. Better safe than sorry, I always thought, plus I always hate to see judgmental eyes. I know they are my friends and just a little harm that they could to me, but I simply cannot help it when it comes to the purpose of showing my true self. Having known that all of this is one of my many weaknesses, I finally pushed myself to try at least a bit, to opened up.
Then I had this little chitchat while having the first cigar that night with this one particular friend, the only one who smokes (besides me) in the party of the sleepover. At that time, freakishly all of my complaints, fears, insecurities, blasted off from my mind and brain like an acute diarrhea, so briefly I barely had a chance to grab a pill of Norit and the last thing I know is my brain has empty.
To be frank, he’s not the first person that I dare to tell my feelings to. There’s already a few numbers of people, who would listen to me whenever I needed someone to talk to. Some volunteered themselves, some just trapped from being a friend that I could reach easily, all of them are really, really nice people, and as I write this post, I blame myself more for being unbelievably ungrateful. How could I still dare to feel lonely?
But then I realized, that is the whole problem. They were being too nice that I couldn’t see my flaws clearly. And this particular friend, as I lament my heart’s trouble, still could see and shove the facts that I’m selfish, needy, immature, coward, obscure, and having too much assumptions, down to my throat. And did I see him with hatred then?
Non. I fucking grinned and said to myself, how could I not do this earlier? This is exactly what I always need.
Even after saying all that, he said to me what a friend should really mean. It is not to fucking tell me what to do or not to do, it is to show me which action shall I choose when I want to do something, even if it is obviously morally wrong or just personally wrong. Cheesy and common saying it is, very endearing to have it said straight only to me nonetheless.
Doesn’t change me into total secure persona who gives dramatic stories of her life to every living people she knows for free, but at least it gives me courage to keep trying and not running from whatever life problems I have.
Owing it to my newest trash can. :)