Off Track I: Writing’s on the Wall

Friendship Dahican Menzi Beach Park and Campsite

There is this quote being repeatedly shared on social media which says that if a certain friendship lasts longer than seven years it is most likely to last a lifetime. Though that thought has so much BS written all over it, you are somehow relieved to know, deep inside, that your friends who have passed this milestone are most likely to put up with your crazy for life. Well, wait until life shows you what BS really feels like.

It sucked to not know what was going on. Especially if you were actually caught in the web of it all! For a second, you were convinced that you had had a grasp of reality around, and then, you get blindsided in the most fashionable way unimaginable.

You know what the worst part was? You knew that you didn’t actually know what was going on, but you still didn’t know what actually was going on!

It was confusing – it really was. It was like living in a limbo for months not knowing, even a single thing, what had been wrong. There was an evolution of emotions from confusion, open-mindedness, understanding, and sympathy to denial, loathing, rage, and apathy.

The funny thing was that it was really just very simple. It was a simple problem with a simple solution! What made it more complicated was that the problem was unknown! You just had that nagging feeling that it was quite simple. It probably was; it probably wasn’t. Who knew? Not you apparently!

You then remembered repeatedly asking “What the hell is going on?” only to be repeatedly answered with silence. Then you wondered whether you would be getting an answer had you omitted “the hell” from your previous question. You know, the classic ‘what ifs’. After unanswered texts, calls, chats, and emails you finally thought to yourself enough was enough. It was even funnier to think that you were on a breakup. Yet it was really more of a breakdown!

What would really hit you the most in all that was the realization that you were somewhat emotionally dependent to the person. You are friends – were friends – and you had navigated through supporting each other in some of the shittiest things since college. In your part, you could say that if you wanted an ally; you could get it out from him. Rarely could you meet a person who could stand with you through thick and thin, and could bestow you friendship in all its platonic glory – whatever that meant. And very rarely could you find a person who could see through your bluffs of strength, comfort, decisiveness, courage, and fearlessness. Looking back, you could also say you had fairly contributed your share on whatever it was. (Or so you justified to yourself to make you feel less guilty of the unknown).

Quite frankly, you didn’t know why you couldn’t talk about it to your other friends. Maybe because you had convinced yourself into thinking that your other friends did not deserve to be burdened by all your crap. And maybe you were right after all. After all, you didn’t appreciate to be telling this and primarily asked whether you had done something to make people uncomfortable as though you were always to be blamed by things. (Or you just hated the notion to be wrong.) Kind of defensive but you knew you were easily annoyed by such people honestly. (Or maybe you were just with the wrong company.) You then began to think that maybe you were getting a dose of your own medicine; that you deserved what you were going through.

Then you made yourself go places and made many lame excuses from going so. You had to test your self-reliance because you were overthinking things. There was no way to let your self emotionally weak because you felt like there was nobody to lift your spirit. Basically, you denied yourself of any feeling of dependency. You felt like you were comfortably emotionally dependent to the person who was not there anymore; and that had to end. You were scared.

But you were so wrong. You then begin to think that it was a major disrespect to some people around you who cared so much. Also a major disrespect to yourself too for thinking you were weak. You dwelt into the thought of being misunderstood that you forgot the only way to be genuinely happy was to not give a fuck! Language, sorry!

You lived for months thinking that you were a crappy person. Not generally true, of course. But it was a feeling you would begin to entertain if you had been battling negative emotions on your own for so long. But how could you possibly easily recover from seven years which blew into smithereens? And not knowing what pinched the bubble? Somehow, you gradually began to realize that probably he was the crappy person after all.

You still have lots of unanswered questions but time really did heal. Over time, you just learned how to get over it – to suck it up. Occasionally, you found yourself thinking about good ole times; but just as quickly, you now could pull yourself to present and focus on good times ahead.

Finally, after convincing yourself that you now can really stand on your own and that you are to bury the hatchet, you find yourself writing an article (which reeks of bitterness, uncertainty and indifference) in a cliché attempt to prove and validate, to yourself basically, that you have become a stronger and a more carefree person. Yes, it is somehow better than rambling about it on social media, but still, a little pathetic!

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