The world probably thinks I’m very screwed up. In their eyes, I have problems and issues. Everyone’s disappointed with me in some way or another.
These days I stay out and make myself so tired so that I go home just to sleep. Pops’ clearly pissed at my silence and mom’s been trying to reach out to me, which I’ve been trying very hard to evade.
Here’s the laundry list of labels I’ve received recently:
Yes, I don’t deny any of it.
I’m being labeled as a slut, being called ‘loose’. Yes. I’m a slut, I slut out on people whom I truly like with my entire soul, people I can die for. Is there a problem?
I’m still appalled at the use of the word ‘loose’ though. How cultured are you exactly to use this word on me? Did you spend your time trying to make sense of the number of guys you think I’ve slept with? Shame on you. I’d have been kind to have called you a whore based just on the number of ugly dudes you’ve fucked.
Just because others act like fucking victims who’s all gracious, sacrificial and quiet about everything makes me a bitch.
What about the times when these people watch in envy about how wonderful everything I have is and decide now that they want a portion of that delicious pie they once thought was bad and had no courage to even take a bite?!
We’re not 5 year-old kids sharing cookies.
I hate it when people pull that stint on me. Right from the start, I stated my intentions clear to the world instead of acting all sneaky.
What’s with that “Hey it’s ok I don’t like this very much you can have it?” And then the moment I settle down happily with my cookie, you’ve gotta come steal it from me right before tea?
You people had your chances way before I appeared. Y’all didn’t cherish it. I am sure, mother fuckin sure you people don’t want it as badly as I do. So don’t do things like that.
I scheme to defend what I want so badly and and I’m being called manipulative and sore. Ok, so I can’t do guilt-trippin. Then, is it better if I call out them out on their shit before cutting them off? If I didn’t treasure these relationships, I probably would have done so.
I have no reactions except pure anger and frustrations that I pent up all in me because I don’t want to lash out at people. I don’t quite get it when certain people probe about what’s going on in my life. Yes, I have my trusty circle of mates that I can fall back on. It takes a lot out of me to tear down those walls to really open up to people on a personal basis.
And what I get at the end of the day’s bailing and sudden bombs from friends I hold so dearly to my heart, I think it’s only reasonable for me to clam up.
I think I’ve done my fair share of being good and kind as a daughter and especially as a friend and a lover. Maybe it’s not enough, I’m not a giver and I’m a really selfish person who clings on dearly to my pride, but I tried to be the best role I can be in any point in time.
Am I never there to listen to people? Have I not been protective over the people I care about? It’s not just words but fuckin actions. Just because it’s not out in the open doesn’t mean that I haven’t had your back in the dark. Not telling you how important you are to me in your face doesn’t mean that I haven’t been telling the whole world how grateful and appreciative of the people I have in my lives behind your back.
Down to the littlest details, I don’t think I’ve ever bailed on people or been unresponsive when people come to me with their problems. I have made enough sacrifices on my end and do I have to announce those to the world? What I could have shared and gave, I really did. Is that really not enough that people have to keep robbing me of what I have left?
And just this morning, I picked up a call from a client and my dad overheard the conversation. His immediate reaction was ” Why can’t you ever talk to us in this tone? “
Do I really have to put on that PR mask and not be myself even when facing the closest kins?
And if you haven’t realised, that’s just how dysfunctional I’m feeling cuhs I don’t even have the energy or words to explain or defend myself. Everyone’s trying to make me talk but I don’t know how to.
Keeping silent is good because that keeps my anger and tears down.
I know exactly what harsh words I would spill and hence I keep my mouth shut. That’s my way of showing everyone respect and a way fix my own emotions.
And I’m pretty amazed how someone who has brought me up doesn’t understand that.
And it’s ironic.
How the only person I can seek comfort from is the one who destroyed me. You see, when you’re like that, you need someone who’s equally dysfunctional.
Someone who won’t show adoration in your face, but will tell you things like,
” If they don’t like to see you drunk, then don’t go home drunk. Don’t make them sad but don’t compromise what you enjoy either. Go ahead, drink. If you really do get drunk, don’t go home at all.”
It’s a fucked up piece of advice. It sounds so warped. But, it’s how someone would condone you to do what makes you happy, and make sure that you don’t strain your ties with the people you love.
I know who are the good ones.
But I also do realize that maybe it’s not about finding perfect characteristics, but how imperfections complement each other.
Despite all the past big fights, this year apart helped us a lot.
Yes, we’re the worst humans around now. But at least we’re acting like our age and recognising the fact that we need to help ourselves get out of this rut instead of creating a fairytale that probably doesn’t exist. We had our debates on what this might be about, about what we have at present and how confused we’re getting. Here’s what I got,
” I don’t know who but catch him when he’s back, and make sure you don’t get reminded of whatever happened today. If you do, then we’re both very dead, we should probably go get married.”
I was too selfish and scared to say that back.
Lost love is still love.