Warning - Emo post. LONG emo post.
Well, I guess I feel better about this enough now to post about it... And this time, no more lies. I shall bare all. The emotional equivalent of flashing, if you will. Er. You don't have to read this. This is just to make myself feel better.
Where did it all go wrong? Hmmm. It's a simple question, but with an answer more complicated than sorting out the wires behind my computer.
I'm not one to take all of the blame, usually. I do, for my friends, but I find that it's difficult to own up to my own faults. Hey, I'm only human. But... well, I honestly take all of the blame for everything that happened. If I hadn't been selfish, I probably would not have hurt someone I care about more than I can admit, and made myself go through sheezenit in the process. I probably would not have neglected my studies after being extremely stressed not only with performing, writing, etc, but also with my emotional problems.
If. I can regret, but I can't undo it. I don't want my regrets to haunt me, and so, I'm writing this in an effort to achieve what can only be called closure. And peace of mind.
How it all started? Well... We met. We weren't the best of friends when we first met - more like acquaintances - since his best friend was hitting on me, and honestly, he was rather in the shadow of said best friend. Nevertheless, as time progressed, we grew closer and, in a very short period of time, became best of friends. Throughout this whole thing, we maintained what we so naively called a platonic relationship.
After all, it is very common, when a girl and a guy are extremely close friends, for everyone else to jump into conclusions. It's human nature. And our friends and family, and teachers (god forbid), were no different. For two years, everyone assumed there was something going on between us, even though we insisted otherwise. My closest friends mentioned that they thought he was interested in me. I would love to say once or twice, but I'd be lying. Every few days, the topic would come up. Yet, I was in denial. I would deny it vehemently and persist with said platonic relationship.
Not to say he didn't, either. I asked him, quite a few times, whenever the topic came up, if our friends had reason to suspect we were more than friends, and he immediately said no. There wasn't. We played numerous Truth Or Dare games, and whenever we asked each other who we were interested in, we'd say no one, or mention a different name. It was a topic we skirted around, yet it kept resurfacing.
I was an idiot. I am an idiot. Why do I allow people to lie to my face, and allow them to believe that I believe it? Well, what happened with most recent ex-boyfriend was not the first instance. He lied whenever anyone asked if he liked me, though I can't let him take all of the blame for that. I lied, too. Although, not only to others, to myself. We'd reached the stage where our friendship was balanced precariously on an invisible cliff's edge. We would either end up being together, or be awkward friends. I guess I couldn't face that big of a decision, and as a result, was in denial as to whether or not I had developed feelings for him, however mild.
Well, the chance for an 'us' faded away as he transferred to a different school. Or so I thought. That holiday itself, we met up and grew closer than ever, and that's when everything kicked into gear and shot off with me tied to the exhaust pipe, my arms flailing about as I screamed like a headless chicken. The topic we had been sidestepping raound somehow grew into a blackhole and we got sucked into it. Our attempts to be subtle were pathetic, honestly.
Backup concept was introduced. It began as a harmless topic. "What do you think about it?" I asked, having seen an episode about it in Friends the night before. "Interesting," was his reply. And we began talking about that. Naturally, it came to the realization that we were both single, and rather pathetically so, having been pining after those whom we could not get. (I shan't mention names here.)
Shall we try it?
Yes, we shall.
When?
Well, I was thinking -
April?
- when we turn eighteen, but yeah, April's good.
Great. It's set.
Perfect.
And it all came together. I got pressured by my friends, and I cracked under the tremendous amount of pressure they'd ladled onto my poor short self, and was an absolute biznatch the next time I saw him. That night itself, I called and apologized. The morning after, we were both no longer single.
It was a tad awkward at first, make no mistake. The transition from best friends to... uh... more than that... wasn't handled smoothly by either of us, and it was obviously unplanned. A week or so without any more-than-friendly communication, and then we started walking down the relationship path. Everything was... fine, although I couldn't say I was extremely happy. I felt guilty, because at that time - and he knew this - I had a teeny crush on a classmate of mine. I'm fickle, so sue me. Anyway. Yes, I felt guilty. Like he didn't deserve a fraud like me. And I'm right - he doesn't. I held myself back, not wanting to ruin what was an amazing friendship. Turns out that's what ruined it in the first place.
The classmate wasn't the reason. Someone else was. He appeared suddenly into our lives, and I found myself attracted to his somewhat bad-boyish attitude, although I could tell something was... odd with him. Like whoever he was on the outside was... not really him. And I'm certified to tell - I pretend myself. Ah, well. No matter whether I knew or not. I'm still an idiot. I allowed my selfishness to take over, and my shallowness to overwhelm my common sense.
The tighter he (ex-bestfriend and that-time boyfriend) held on to me, the more I moved away from him. I'm scared of commitment, or so I claimed. We stopped getting along well, and whenever we talked, if at all, it was tense. It was happening, and we both knew it. I decided to just step up and do it. We broke up, although we both agreed to remain friends.
It wasn't the same though. We didn't have that degree of closeness that we were so comfortably in the years before. I was pursuing someone I knew was wrong for me, but I couldn't stop myself for some reason. Even though there was something always nagging at the back of my mind about that... person I was pursuing. Even though I knew he wasn't all that. I did it anyway. Once we were officially together, I felt uncharacteristically triumphant - like I'd won a trophy or something. Not a good feeling, and I felt immediately guilty. Honestly, I felt pretty bad, even though I never admitted it to anyone. I hated being so withdrawn with said ex-best friend. And there was another reason - my feelings were still there. Lurking beneath the surface after taking such a severe beating from my selfishness and shallowness, but they were still there, flickering weakly.But there was nothing I could do. I'd made my choice, and a pretty damn bad one at that.
Well.. big surprise. (I just realized how long this post is, and I'll cut the rest of the story 99% shorter) That bad-ass dude turned out to be as bad as my instinct kept telling me he was. Dumped him. (The biznatch.) That's a whole different, long story by itself. Nevertheless, I tried to mend everything. Even when I was with that someone else, but I guess I burned down a bridge that I couldn't rebuild. I ruined a friendship, and lost the one good thing that'd happened to me in years.
How do I feel?
Perfect. Just goddamned perfect.