Sometimes I feel like my world is extremely small. I'm a simple person who thinks of simple things and becomes amused at simple things. I will laugh at random things even if nobody does and become excited over random things even if it's not a big deal.
Ambition isn't in my vocabulary at all.
My world is just very small and simple and narrow. It's hard for people to enter into it because there is very little room to spare. And it's very easy for people to wander back out of it, or get pushed back out of it because remaining in it is limited. Finally, it's a very easily forgotten place because its so small and simple.
For those who can step into my world, my closest friends, my family... I'm glad you've made the effort to remain by my side. It's a major feat on its own and you all are very brave. And if any of you are to one day wander out of my world, please don't forget about that little place where you've made your residence for so long.
Because, for the most part, I'll still be here in my own little world waiting to be discovered again. Because my small and simple and narrow world has never had the courage to explore realms beyond.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
To reminisce... is sometimes a bit depressing...
I haven't written a blog post in forever, it seems. Of course, the last one was only a month ago and I jumped onto a soap box about stuff I probably don't really understand. And that's just how my posts end up going. I hear something, I form an opinion, and then I rant about it. I may or may not know what I'm talking about. Of course, for the last post, I promise that I DID research the entire story before I said anything. I may not have researched the entire issue, but I got enough to create an objective opinion-- at least I hope that I did.
Whenever I blog, I typically have something I really want to share with people. It's not always interesting, and I'm sure a lot of times, people roll their eyes and wonder, "What the heck kind of point is she trying to make?" Well, my answer is not going to be satisfactory-- sometimes there IS no point to make. I just write whatever popped into my head to begin with.
And I'm also guilty of trying too hard to build up an introductory to my intended topic. It's a way of making my blog posts much longer and seeing how long my readers will stay with me. I apologize, cause I know that's a lame way of doing things.
And I admit that these past few paragraphs have done exact that.
Anyway, moving into the actual topic that I had intended to write about in the first place, I advise readers to skip out if you don't want to be bored with my history of drama queen randomness. But before anyone rolls their eyes and think, "Here she goes again with dramatic woe is me stories..." I'd like to clarify that I'm not in a bad mood today, I'm not trying to be dramatic for full sympathetic effect, and I've not been wronged in anyway at all today. I'm actually in a rather neutral to good mood, but I just happened to think back about some things in my past.
Has anyone ever had those moments as well? You're sitting by yourself, listening to music and random thoughts just come to invade your mind. Questions, mind-rambling... reminiscing happens as well. It comes to me a lot cause I'm usually sitting by myself listening to music if I'm not studying or watching television. Or even when you're in the shower and all you hear is the soothing rush of shower water falling down.
Sometimes I'm guilty of thinking too much-- I admit this. Thoughts end up building on thoughts and the next thing you know, you've either built up some sort of fabricated story of how current situations will escalate in the future, or you've recreated a random memory of your own past that you had never intended to think about in the first place. Be it good or bad, it's there nonetheless.
Today, mine was in a flash of a couple of memories that lead to one particular memory that had ended up creating the drama queen I had been in high school and the indifferent prick I am today. I guess "indifferent prick" shouldn't be the word to use, but I have to admit that I'm much more laid back and less compassionate about things than I used to be. And sometimes, when things happen to people around me, my reaction is typically calm and indifferent.
I grew up in a family where we truly endorsed the "Children should be seen and not heard" unofficial rule. I recall spending my time being a talkative brat while I was still going through elemetary school. I even had a nickname, "Baat Mui" that my parents used to call me all the time. Roughly translated, it means "Gossip Girl". The connotation of the the nickname, however, was simply that I loved to talk about everything, no matter what it was, and that I would never shut up. Thinking back, I'm not sure how I felt about that nickname because I was always a stupid kid-- I was slow on picking up whenever people were making fun of me, or whenever people just wanted me to shut up and sit still like a good little girl.
I always talked. But my parents' reactions had always been rather indifferent. I guess I'm overexaggerating when I say that we endosred "Children should be seen and not heard." I was definitely heard; whether or not people wanted to hear me was a different story. But I do know that my opinions were pretty much ignored and I was always told time and time again to be quiet and sit still. I don't recall whether or not my parents bothered to answer all of my curiosity, but a major part of me believes that I was never satisfied in my quest to constantly inquire about things and annoy the heck out of people.
As a contradiciton to the me today, I spent a lot of my childhood being loud and obnoxious. I was shy around strangers when at school, but around home, I was like a parrot. There had never been a time when I didn't tell everyone exactly what I thought when I that young.
But that phase didn't last long.
I think it was a little before I started middle school that I permanently shut my mouth and stopped sharing with everyone what I wanted to say, be it how I was feeling or what piece of news I'd picked up from a relative.
It had slowly sunk in that no one was really listening anyway. And when they WERE listening, they didn't seem to care. It hadn't deterred me. At least it hadn't until one day when we were all together as a family, including my mother's side of the family, celebrating something that I don't remember. Pictures were being taken and there was food, there was laughter... and then somehow, there was a ton of Ani being made fun of. Something had upset me immensely. I think that I might have felt I was being ignored; I think that I might have felt I was being bullied too much. I think that my brothers were teasing me a little too much, or my mom was randomly saying things about me that hurt my feelings. I think I may have gotten scolded for something I didn't understand.
Whatever it was that happened, I ended up breaking down into tears. And I was young then, barely a teenager, maybe a pre-teen. Maybe this was actually during middle school. I don't remember the actual time frame, but I remember that this DID happen and it affected me immensely.
Crying had always been easy to do because it conveyed the strongest feeling I'd have whenver I felt like I was wronged somehow. And so I cried. And instead of being consoled or anything, I was asked to leave the room if I couldn't behave. And now that I think about, there's no telling what had happened. Maybe I was throwing a temper tantrum-- maybe I HAD done something so irritating that it merited me being kicked out of the room and thus out of a multiple number of family photos.
And so I obediently left the upstairs and walked down into the basement where I continued to bawl. The rest of the family happily continued to take their family photos and I sat by myself crying until I heard someone coming down the stairs.
To this day, I will never forget what it was that my grandmother told me when she came to get me. Roughly translated from Cantonese, she told me that crying was never the solution to anything and it will only make things worse. She told me that as a woman in this family, I needed to learn how to bottle up my sadness and move on. "Do you know how many times I've wanted to cry before? But my own mother taught me that I should never be heard showing my sadness." "Nei yiu yuun. Yuun m'dou do yiu yuun." In English, "You have to bear it. Even if you can't bear it, you still have to bear it."
Because in this world, she told me, no one really cares when you feel like you've been wronged. No one likes a crybaby and no one wants to deal with a little girl who cries about everything.
Depressing huh? I think back on it now and I kind of have to laugh about this.
The me today has been conditioned since that moment on to stop sharing my feelings with people and stop opening showing emotion if I can help it. If I have to cry, I go to my room, close the door and pretend to be doing my homework or reading-- I crank up some music and I refuse to let anyone see my show any feelings. Over the years, it has become normal for me to keep thoughts to myself and think about what I'm going to say at least ten times before I say it lest I offend someone. Mentally, I've managed to convince myself that if something goes wrong, it's more than likely my fault and I need to be prepared to apologize. I've even gone as far as to always question whether or not people really care about anything I do or say every minute of the day. I naturally wonder whether or not the people I hang out with sometimes even want me around. I've managed to convince myself that I'm an annoying, boring person who no one wants to be around.
All of those thoughts had propelled me into my high school years of being a drama queen who could think of nothing but negative thoughts about myself. My self-esteem plummeted and I became the invisible student that no one really wanted to care about.
Today's Ani really looks back and laughs at my plight in high school. I was a lot luckier than I had ever thought and I was a lot less lonely than I had always told myself. It embarrasses me to even think about how emo and dark I had been secretly, while always acting like I was a lively, caring, and optimistic person. I dearly wanted attention, but as a conflict, my logic would not allow me to do or say anything that would draw attention if I could help it. Because my grandmother had told me that no likes a crybaby. On the outside, I forced myself to be the goody-two shoes nerd girl who every teacher liked and who never got into confrontations or arguments. I wanted to be the type of person that no one would ever hate. I was secretly always feeling lonely and always feeling like no one really cared.
Now that I think about it, I may have created a monster out of myself, because I was pretty good at manipulating people into feeling sympathy for me as the good girl. I may have been this centuries worst kid ever-- I was that girl from stories and movies that I hate so much. I was the girl who always acted like I was a good person, but who subconsciously found ways of making people feel sorry for me. All because I actually wanted attention.
After all, during my youth, growing up with three brothers who were the pride and joy of my parents and being set aside time and time again simply as the girl who was there to help do housechores when I was needed, I felt embittered. My parents were always proud of my older brother and always pampered my younger brothers. My mother always wanted me to be just like my elder brother and do the same things in high school that he had done. I was encouraged to hang out with my brother more often and with his friends-- my parents loved my elder brother's friends. But they never made an effort to get to know any of my friends-- part of that could be because my elder brother was in a group of other Asian people whereas my closest friends were 100% American.
So lacking the attention I hoped for at home, I chose to find subconscious ways of getting attention at school with friends, classmates and complete strangers. But because my grandmother's words continued to echo in the back of my mind, I didn't dare make too big a spectacle of myself. So it's hard to say whether or not I accomplished my goal.
I'm embarrassed to think that this was how I was in the past. I don't quite like myself that way. It's depressing.
The me today can only think back and wish that I never become an emo, depressing and stupid little girl like that again.
I'd like to think that I've matured a lot from those times back in high school. I'm a lot more laid back in the present and my priorities have gone from wanting attention to wanting to accomplish more important goals in my life. I have my studies and I have my future to think about. I stop thinking about depressing things that'll only make me feel like crap for the rest of the day and I have close, very, very close friends who I can actually allow myself to show emotion in front of. I spent years being a girl who never shows her true feelings in front of people, just like my grandmother told me to do. Crying is anathema to my survival and sharing my thoughts is taboo.
But having close friends who I know I can trust has allowed me to be a little more open about my feelings. I don't admit that I'm a hundred percent comfortable with being open and honest with my closest friends, however. So right here and right now, I apologize if it still seems like I keep things from you guys. I'm still at a point where I have reserves about being completely open with anyone, even if you are one of my closest friends. I'm still at a point where I feel like having my own secrets is necessary and keeping some thoughts to myself is the safest way to life. It's not that I don't trust you guys, I'm just not entirely comfortable with opening up to anyone in such a manner. And I apologize profusely, because I know that I'm cared for and that no matter what is said or done, we'll always be together as friends.
But there's still that small little psychological resistance at the back of my mind that tells me, now that I have true friends who have been with me for so many years and who have been there through all of my happinesses and who I can trust with all of my heart... Well, I just don't want to do or say anything unnecessarily that will ruin this bliss. I don't want to be hated-- and because of this, I realize that I might not be the best friend in the world, no matter how hard I try to be a friend. Given time, I'm sure I'll finally break out of my shell.
LOL
I hadn't intended to get so mushy and depressing. After all, I repeat that I had not been in a bad mood when I started writing this blog post. My state of mind earlier had been mellow and good. I was merely reminiscing, but as my title implies, reminiscing about certain things will undoubtly lead to some depressing moments. I apologize for that.
But sometimes when you get on a roll talking about certain aspects of your life like that, you get carried away and say things you hadn't intended to touch upon. And blogging is my way of allowing others to know what I'm truly thinking. Because I'm no good at physical confrontation and I'm no good at verbalizing my thoughts. I'm abnormally adverse to receiving immediately responses to my thoughts when it comes to heartfelt words such as this. I don't like exchanging moments like this face-to-face.
Maybe this is why I write.
Hopefully today's blog post hasn't repulsed away the few friends that I actually have. I had merely intended to share some of my past with everyone in writing and to let everyone know that I'm not the nice and friendly good person people often think of me as. And if you never thought of me as a good person to begin with, then well, there's your proof.
Ani isn't nice and isn't a good friend. Ani is merely a human being trying to get through life without screwing up. And in this aspect, I'm probably trying way too hard; I know I've screwed lots of things up time and time again already. But this is how I am and the me of today has made a promise to myself to learn how to improve my own personality and be more open and optimistic about myself. Even at this age, I'm sure it'll still take quite a bit of time to accomplish.
At this point, my still constantly reminding myself not to keep silent about anything when I'm with my closest friends. If I feel like I need to say something, I tell myself to say it. I've been trying not to think of the consequences of whether or not I would offend. My closest friends and I have never had an argument with each other, and because of that, it worries me whether or not we would be able to handle such a situation that comes about. Just how badly can I possibly offend my best friends without losing their friendship? I've never been lashed out at before by them and it makes me wonder whether we would recover from such a situation. And then on the other hand, I don't want to see that day come because I don't like confrontation and I don't like to argue with people.
Maybe our friendship is just different from other peoples. We don't need to argue with each other in order to strengthen our friendship like many people do. Maybe, with the type of people that we are, we simply need to know that we'll be there for each other all the time and continue to care about each other.
Thirteen years of being togehter as the closest of friends is no small matter. It takes a lot of effort to maintain a friendship and to be able to still tolerate each other after so many years-- maybe I'm just being too pessimistic about my own ability to maintain a friendship. Because if I've been kept around as a friend for this long, then there must be something about me that is actually likeable.
Anyway, to anyone who has made it this far, thanks for sticking with my depressing memories and my childish ramblings. To be able to write anything, whether it be depressing or fun is just something I feel good doing.
I promise the next post won't be as depressing and I'll find something random to talk about.
Whenever I blog, I typically have something I really want to share with people. It's not always interesting, and I'm sure a lot of times, people roll their eyes and wonder, "What the heck kind of point is she trying to make?" Well, my answer is not going to be satisfactory-- sometimes there IS no point to make. I just write whatever popped into my head to begin with.
And I'm also guilty of trying too hard to build up an introductory to my intended topic. It's a way of making my blog posts much longer and seeing how long my readers will stay with me. I apologize, cause I know that's a lame way of doing things.
And I admit that these past few paragraphs have done exact that.
Anyway, moving into the actual topic that I had intended to write about in the first place, I advise readers to skip out if you don't want to be bored with my history of drama queen randomness. But before anyone rolls their eyes and think, "Here she goes again with dramatic woe is me stories..." I'd like to clarify that I'm not in a bad mood today, I'm not trying to be dramatic for full sympathetic effect, and I've not been wronged in anyway at all today. I'm actually in a rather neutral to good mood, but I just happened to think back about some things in my past.
Has anyone ever had those moments as well? You're sitting by yourself, listening to music and random thoughts just come to invade your mind. Questions, mind-rambling... reminiscing happens as well. It comes to me a lot cause I'm usually sitting by myself listening to music if I'm not studying or watching television. Or even when you're in the shower and all you hear is the soothing rush of shower water falling down.
Sometimes I'm guilty of thinking too much-- I admit this. Thoughts end up building on thoughts and the next thing you know, you've either built up some sort of fabricated story of how current situations will escalate in the future, or you've recreated a random memory of your own past that you had never intended to think about in the first place. Be it good or bad, it's there nonetheless.
Today, mine was in a flash of a couple of memories that lead to one particular memory that had ended up creating the drama queen I had been in high school and the indifferent prick I am today. I guess "indifferent prick" shouldn't be the word to use, but I have to admit that I'm much more laid back and less compassionate about things than I used to be. And sometimes, when things happen to people around me, my reaction is typically calm and indifferent.
I grew up in a family where we truly endorsed the "Children should be seen and not heard" unofficial rule. I recall spending my time being a talkative brat while I was still going through elemetary school. I even had a nickname, "Baat Mui" that my parents used to call me all the time. Roughly translated, it means "Gossip Girl". The connotation of the the nickname, however, was simply that I loved to talk about everything, no matter what it was, and that I would never shut up. Thinking back, I'm not sure how I felt about that nickname because I was always a stupid kid-- I was slow on picking up whenever people were making fun of me, or whenever people just wanted me to shut up and sit still like a good little girl.
I always talked. But my parents' reactions had always been rather indifferent. I guess I'm overexaggerating when I say that we endosred "Children should be seen and not heard." I was definitely heard; whether or not people wanted to hear me was a different story. But I do know that my opinions were pretty much ignored and I was always told time and time again to be quiet and sit still. I don't recall whether or not my parents bothered to answer all of my curiosity, but a major part of me believes that I was never satisfied in my quest to constantly inquire about things and annoy the heck out of people.
As a contradiciton to the me today, I spent a lot of my childhood being loud and obnoxious. I was shy around strangers when at school, but around home, I was like a parrot. There had never been a time when I didn't tell everyone exactly what I thought when I that young.
But that phase didn't last long.
I think it was a little before I started middle school that I permanently shut my mouth and stopped sharing with everyone what I wanted to say, be it how I was feeling or what piece of news I'd picked up from a relative.
It had slowly sunk in that no one was really listening anyway. And when they WERE listening, they didn't seem to care. It hadn't deterred me. At least it hadn't until one day when we were all together as a family, including my mother's side of the family, celebrating something that I don't remember. Pictures were being taken and there was food, there was laughter... and then somehow, there was a ton of Ani being made fun of. Something had upset me immensely. I think that I might have felt I was being ignored; I think that I might have felt I was being bullied too much. I think that my brothers were teasing me a little too much, or my mom was randomly saying things about me that hurt my feelings. I think I may have gotten scolded for something I didn't understand.
Whatever it was that happened, I ended up breaking down into tears. And I was young then, barely a teenager, maybe a pre-teen. Maybe this was actually during middle school. I don't remember the actual time frame, but I remember that this DID happen and it affected me immensely.
Crying had always been easy to do because it conveyed the strongest feeling I'd have whenver I felt like I was wronged somehow. And so I cried. And instead of being consoled or anything, I was asked to leave the room if I couldn't behave. And now that I think about, there's no telling what had happened. Maybe I was throwing a temper tantrum-- maybe I HAD done something so irritating that it merited me being kicked out of the room and thus out of a multiple number of family photos.
And so I obediently left the upstairs and walked down into the basement where I continued to bawl. The rest of the family happily continued to take their family photos and I sat by myself crying until I heard someone coming down the stairs.
To this day, I will never forget what it was that my grandmother told me when she came to get me. Roughly translated from Cantonese, she told me that crying was never the solution to anything and it will only make things worse. She told me that as a woman in this family, I needed to learn how to bottle up my sadness and move on. "Do you know how many times I've wanted to cry before? But my own mother taught me that I should never be heard showing my sadness." "Nei yiu yuun. Yuun m'dou do yiu yuun." In English, "You have to bear it. Even if you can't bear it, you still have to bear it."
Because in this world, she told me, no one really cares when you feel like you've been wronged. No one likes a crybaby and no one wants to deal with a little girl who cries about everything.
Depressing huh? I think back on it now and I kind of have to laugh about this.
The me today has been conditioned since that moment on to stop sharing my feelings with people and stop opening showing emotion if I can help it. If I have to cry, I go to my room, close the door and pretend to be doing my homework or reading-- I crank up some music and I refuse to let anyone see my show any feelings. Over the years, it has become normal for me to keep thoughts to myself and think about what I'm going to say at least ten times before I say it lest I offend someone. Mentally, I've managed to convince myself that if something goes wrong, it's more than likely my fault and I need to be prepared to apologize. I've even gone as far as to always question whether or not people really care about anything I do or say every minute of the day. I naturally wonder whether or not the people I hang out with sometimes even want me around. I've managed to convince myself that I'm an annoying, boring person who no one wants to be around.
All of those thoughts had propelled me into my high school years of being a drama queen who could think of nothing but negative thoughts about myself. My self-esteem plummeted and I became the invisible student that no one really wanted to care about.
Today's Ani really looks back and laughs at my plight in high school. I was a lot luckier than I had ever thought and I was a lot less lonely than I had always told myself. It embarrasses me to even think about how emo and dark I had been secretly, while always acting like I was a lively, caring, and optimistic person. I dearly wanted attention, but as a conflict, my logic would not allow me to do or say anything that would draw attention if I could help it. Because my grandmother had told me that no likes a crybaby. On the outside, I forced myself to be the goody-two shoes nerd girl who every teacher liked and who never got into confrontations or arguments. I wanted to be the type of person that no one would ever hate. I was secretly always feeling lonely and always feeling like no one really cared.
Now that I think about it, I may have created a monster out of myself, because I was pretty good at manipulating people into feeling sympathy for me as the good girl. I may have been this centuries worst kid ever-- I was that girl from stories and movies that I hate so much. I was the girl who always acted like I was a good person, but who subconsciously found ways of making people feel sorry for me. All because I actually wanted attention.
After all, during my youth, growing up with three brothers who were the pride and joy of my parents and being set aside time and time again simply as the girl who was there to help do housechores when I was needed, I felt embittered. My parents were always proud of my older brother and always pampered my younger brothers. My mother always wanted me to be just like my elder brother and do the same things in high school that he had done. I was encouraged to hang out with my brother more often and with his friends-- my parents loved my elder brother's friends. But they never made an effort to get to know any of my friends-- part of that could be because my elder brother was in a group of other Asian people whereas my closest friends were 100% American.
So lacking the attention I hoped for at home, I chose to find subconscious ways of getting attention at school with friends, classmates and complete strangers. But because my grandmother's words continued to echo in the back of my mind, I didn't dare make too big a spectacle of myself. So it's hard to say whether or not I accomplished my goal.
I'm embarrassed to think that this was how I was in the past. I don't quite like myself that way. It's depressing.
The me today can only think back and wish that I never become an emo, depressing and stupid little girl like that again.
I'd like to think that I've matured a lot from those times back in high school. I'm a lot more laid back in the present and my priorities have gone from wanting attention to wanting to accomplish more important goals in my life. I have my studies and I have my future to think about. I stop thinking about depressing things that'll only make me feel like crap for the rest of the day and I have close, very, very close friends who I can actually allow myself to show emotion in front of. I spent years being a girl who never shows her true feelings in front of people, just like my grandmother told me to do. Crying is anathema to my survival and sharing my thoughts is taboo.
But having close friends who I know I can trust has allowed me to be a little more open about my feelings. I don't admit that I'm a hundred percent comfortable with being open and honest with my closest friends, however. So right here and right now, I apologize if it still seems like I keep things from you guys. I'm still at a point where I have reserves about being completely open with anyone, even if you are one of my closest friends. I'm still at a point where I feel like having my own secrets is necessary and keeping some thoughts to myself is the safest way to life. It's not that I don't trust you guys, I'm just not entirely comfortable with opening up to anyone in such a manner. And I apologize profusely, because I know that I'm cared for and that no matter what is said or done, we'll always be together as friends.
But there's still that small little psychological resistance at the back of my mind that tells me, now that I have true friends who have been with me for so many years and who have been there through all of my happinesses and who I can trust with all of my heart... Well, I just don't want to do or say anything unnecessarily that will ruin this bliss. I don't want to be hated-- and because of this, I realize that I might not be the best friend in the world, no matter how hard I try to be a friend. Given time, I'm sure I'll finally break out of my shell.
LOL
I hadn't intended to get so mushy and depressing. After all, I repeat that I had not been in a bad mood when I started writing this blog post. My state of mind earlier had been mellow and good. I was merely reminiscing, but as my title implies, reminiscing about certain things will undoubtly lead to some depressing moments. I apologize for that.
But sometimes when you get on a roll talking about certain aspects of your life like that, you get carried away and say things you hadn't intended to touch upon. And blogging is my way of allowing others to know what I'm truly thinking. Because I'm no good at physical confrontation and I'm no good at verbalizing my thoughts. I'm abnormally adverse to receiving immediately responses to my thoughts when it comes to heartfelt words such as this. I don't like exchanging moments like this face-to-face.
Maybe this is why I write.
Hopefully today's blog post hasn't repulsed away the few friends that I actually have. I had merely intended to share some of my past with everyone in writing and to let everyone know that I'm not the nice and friendly good person people often think of me as. And if you never thought of me as a good person to begin with, then well, there's your proof.
Ani isn't nice and isn't a good friend. Ani is merely a human being trying to get through life without screwing up. And in this aspect, I'm probably trying way too hard; I know I've screwed lots of things up time and time again already. But this is how I am and the me of today has made a promise to myself to learn how to improve my own personality and be more open and optimistic about myself. Even at this age, I'm sure it'll still take quite a bit of time to accomplish.
At this point, my still constantly reminding myself not to keep silent about anything when I'm with my closest friends. If I feel like I need to say something, I tell myself to say it. I've been trying not to think of the consequences of whether or not I would offend. My closest friends and I have never had an argument with each other, and because of that, it worries me whether or not we would be able to handle such a situation that comes about. Just how badly can I possibly offend my best friends without losing their friendship? I've never been lashed out at before by them and it makes me wonder whether we would recover from such a situation. And then on the other hand, I don't want to see that day come because I don't like confrontation and I don't like to argue with people.
Maybe our friendship is just different from other peoples. We don't need to argue with each other in order to strengthen our friendship like many people do. Maybe, with the type of people that we are, we simply need to know that we'll be there for each other all the time and continue to care about each other.
Thirteen years of being togehter as the closest of friends is no small matter. It takes a lot of effort to maintain a friendship and to be able to still tolerate each other after so many years-- maybe I'm just being too pessimistic about my own ability to maintain a friendship. Because if I've been kept around as a friend for this long, then there must be something about me that is actually likeable.
Anyway, to anyone who has made it this far, thanks for sticking with my depressing memories and my childish ramblings. To be able to write anything, whether it be depressing or fun is just something I feel good doing.
I promise the next post won't be as depressing and I'll find something random to talk about.
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