The front and the back are the same sometimes.
People enter and leave your life all the time; it's just a part of life. But it's been a long time since I've felt the sting of anyone 'walking out of my life,' so to speak.
So yesterday, Kylie tells me that she's moving away. I've only known her since December, but she's kept me company late at night when I don't feel like sleeping. We've definately shared great laughs, and I do consider her a good friend. I guess she did hint at her going away several weeks before, but it still took me by surprise when she popped online yesterday and told me that she wasn't coming back. Though we maintained a happy mood, I couldn't help but feel kind of defeated afterwards. She said she'd visit me online every once in a while, but a part of me feels like I'm just going to lose contact with another friend. Yes, that news made me a bit sad. But more than that, it got me thinking about everyone who has ever entered my life. Certain people have shaped me into a certain mentality, but Kylie's 'goodbye' showed me another perspective. I probably should elaborate.
I'll start from two years ago, since that seems to be a major turning point in my relationships with people. Back at the beginning of high school, I was accustomed to having friends come and go all the time (considering my constant changing of schools when I was younger). I always got hung up on them, and I constantly felt like I was stuck in time, like I was unable to let go of the friends who, more often than not, I wouldn't see again. It's so easy to lose contact, and distance doesn't help with that. The summer after Sophomore year, I met NS. And our relationship developed into something that I'm not even clear about right now. In short, it was a young, romantic fling. I didn't want it, but it just happened. It was fun but, at the same time, we were so different that we often conflicted. We grew apart from lack of effort from either of us to continue. We tried to still remain as friends, but I guess it was just too difficult, especially since he refused to leave his room to hang out with me. It turns out that while I was busy with school, he spent his time on his computer. And he evidentally 'fell in love' with someone with whom he played an online game. When I bugged him about it, it got to the point when he told me to get out of his life. And well, we've not spoken since. It was the first time I had walked out of anyone's life under the guise that I was doing good for the both of us. Sounds honorable, but it's definately proven to be one of my more complex motives.
Sometimes I wonder what he's up to nowadays, after all these years (heck, I've probably insinuated this sometimes, even in my entries). But I already know that I've lost contact with him and that even if I were to somehow talk to him, it would definately not be the same. Most likely, we'd end up in a tense conversation and both walk away frustrated. I'm glad that we ended up the way we have, because I learned to appreciate those who do care about me and who want to remain in my life so much more. After NS, I found that I divided people I met into two categories of friends: casual ones and close ones. Casual ones, I would probably have a handful of good conversations with but then would move on without much thought back. Close ones, I still remain good friends with and we still hang out like we've always done. But I haven't dwelled on the thought of having either of the two types of friends walk out of my life or considered if it would affect me to a great extent. It was probably more likely that I walked out on their lives. But even then, I'd never be able to get myself to breakin' hearts. So I guess I'm pretty much a perpetual friend. Sometimes it kind of seems unfair that some people never come to me unless they really need me or are bored, but I still try to leave an open door nevertheless. I always figured that it was because I was too nice, too polite, but I never completely grasped the idea behind my desire to want to be there for others. I felt that I was the only one feeling attached, and I really wanted to break away from that.
Kylie's departure yesterday was the first time since my early teenage years that I felt downright hung up on losing contact with a friend, like she really is going to walk out of my life (in the sense that I will never see her again). I got attached not because I was afraid of losing a friend (heck, friends come and go all the time, and I've learned to accept it) but because I cared about her. She presented to me a more realistic category of a friend: one with distinctive motives and many complex aspects. People cannot be divided into a few categories, obviously. But she really made me blur the lines between a casual and close friend: like a casual friend, she'd just disappear from my life, and we'd both move on; like a close friend, I do care about her and feel a bit down that I won't get to hang out with her like I have been doing. But it's okay, because I appreciate that she and I have crossed paths in this life, and I know that we're going to continue moving on anyway. Throughout my entire life, it seems that I've always moved too fast and never slowed down for anyone. But I realize now that having even felt this way about anyone, to care and to even think of how they've affected my life, shows me that I really haven't left anyone behind after all. And when my friends show me that they think of me, too, I realize that they haven't walked out of my life, either.
I'm sorry if I felt a bit down and rubbed some of it on you yesterday. My thoughts left me feeling a bit drained, haha. But I feel good now, having realized and learned from all of this. I still believe that everything happens for a reason, and I'm definately not ready to relinquish this hope and faith. :]