Let It Go

I feel like I need to write this, and let it go once and for all.

My best friend was my cousin (I wrote about our relationship here).

Growing up I wore my heart on my sleeve, I was so open, so bubbly, no filter between my brain and my mouth. You got what you saw with me.

But then I started noticing that whilst the everyone new exactly who I was, I didn’t really know my closest best-friend. She was so closed off, having trust issues. Later on I learnt that her parents were having marriage problems, and were to divorce. This was never openly discussed in our family and to-date still has never openly been said. It’s just brushed under the carpet and not questioned by us kids because we never really saw her dad anyway, so his absence is not unusual. Point is, to-date she has never once mentioned this whole saga to me, or even indicated that it’s happened.

So I found that so weird. There I stood openly telling her everything about our household, my secrets, my feelings, and not thinking anything weird with being so forthcoming, but something as big as her parents divorcing and she never uttered a word to me. The lack of trust on her part was part of the turning events for me when I changed into into this bitter person that you have seen vent on this blog.

I thought she was so cool, so mysterious being that closed off. I felt that being so open as I was, was considered uncool. So based on the hurt I was feeling from the lack of trust she had in me and a bunch of other stuff happening in my life at the point, I decided I needed to close myself off.

I created the same monster that I am today trying to defeat.

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They Make Us To Break Us

You see this way too often, a teenager or adult commits suicide and only then does society acknowledge them. They then get the attention they needed and craved when the news article publishes their story. Too little too late. Society breaks people down by ridiculing every decision they make. They create a vulnerable and broken shell of what that person once was. Then they load the gun and hand it over. Of course they don’t pull the trigger, they couldn’t possibly be caught with blood on their hands. Just like a clever convict they play the character of a shocked mourner well.  Who ever suspects the guy standing at the front crying at the funeral?

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