Bridging Butterfly
Friends are funny entities. The romanticised version is that they're supposed to be there through thick and thin. The ones you can always rely on. Almost like family. They keep you company, help you through the bad times, and ride the waves with you during the good times.
They're supportive, another shoulder to cry on. Helping you dissect that weird date, or untangling your feelings about a guy.
We'd been friends for close to 12 years. And suddenly it's in tatters. Insensitive words were all it took. And suddenly I can't look at her in the same way.
After I came back from my holiday, I decided to give it another go. But I tell you - mending bridges is hard. It feels so awkward. So strange. And I no longer harbour as much sympathy or goodwill towards her. I wonder sometimes if I'm doing this for the wrong reasons - stubborness, pride.
She doesn't seem that receptive. And I can't really blame her. Her decisions aren't based on what I think and feel. She has a right to her own feelings too. Although she did admit that she felt she had become a much angrier person. A mean girl. Which is all fine and good. Except that what I feel is that she's become a lot more judgemental. And I don't like that. Especially when I make a point of never judging. Or if I do, at least never revealing my judgements. And it hurts to be judged - especially by your closest friends. They should accept you as you are.
While she repeats that all she wants is my happiness, somehow the words sound hollow to my ears. Things just don't seem to be the same. Things just are no longer as they seem - not that they ever really were in a way I guess.
I always knew there were areas in our lives that would never overlap. But after such a debacle as this, it is hard. And after all that soul searching, all it takes for a friendship to renew is, 'friends again?' Somehow that seems so juvenile. So kindergarten-esque. We're not in the school yard anymore.
Does she even realise how much she hurt me?
When her justification was that, "I was really sorry. But my apology wasn't good enough. So I stopped caring."
That's not an attitude that I really like. Obviously it's not enough. And considering I had to pull teeth to get that apology out in the first place? Bad form.
Maybe I'm being too petty? I don't know. I just know that I don't feel right about it anymore. It's more awkward than it is comfortable - and that can't be a good thing.
Friends come, and friends go. But with 12 years worth of history, you'd think it would end up better than this.
Just Butterfly
We went down to the South Coast yesterday to check out a rental property. We decided against it for a few reasons.
1. It's too early to move yet. We can't afford it, our life isn't totally in order. We have no car.
2. The place was a bit small. Personally I found it a bit cramped. The bedrooms were small. And while I liked the idea of the door to floor opening doors, I wouldn't feel comfortable working with a full length mirror behind my back, and the door to the toilet/bathroom to my right.
3. They might not have been willing to let our dog run wild and chase away the wildlife.
4. The landowner was on the same property - albeit with a dilapadated house in between ours and hers.
5. No car, means difficulty to maneouvre to our needs - especially down south.
The photos looked so cute, and the place looked really lovely. While this was still the case, the place itself was in fact quite small. Even when you get to the front door, the place looked a bit squished. Not something you want to come home to. Not to say that i didn't look gorgeous. It did. Just a bit cramped on the sides.
Compared to our current place, which has large rooms and seemed like a mansion in terms of space.
On top of which, well, to be brutally honest, I'm not ready to move from where we live right now. I feel a big attachment to our place. It's our 'first'. And I do love the convenience of everything. The stores, 5 mins walk away. The train station, 7 minutes. Buses, trains. The only problem is the humidity and the noise. Especially since our bedroom is at the front of the house.
I'll admit that the south coast is tranquil. And with the dilapidated house next door - I would've found thousands of subjects to photograph. But the reality was, it's just not the sensible idea right now.
Home life, still a mess. I wrote mum a letter last week, and it got lost in the mail. So I had to rewrite it this weekend, and I'll give it to my brother this afternoon to give to her.
I went out shopping on the weekend. Bought myself some clothes - which made me feel good about myself. It also helped that boyfriend subsidised my shopping spree.
This week's going to be busy. Going to a political talk on Wednesday night, Heading off to watch
Howl's Moving Castle, weather permitting, on Thursday night. And I'm hoping to see
Girl With a Pearl Earring at the art gallery this Sunday afternoon.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to piece together my social life. Have tried to make amends with my best friend. To be honest, it is often awkward. And I hate losing people, or knowing that I'm responsible for losing people. Scared of regret. So we'll see how it goes.
Boyfriend's mates are coming tonight for a poker night. I might curl up and watch some tv or muck around on my computer. I'm hoping to get an early night in. In the meantime, there's still house cleaning to do.
How am I feeling today? Don't really know. Can't really describe. Not 100% happy or excited, but not exactly depressed either. Just, me.
Picking Butterfly
Don't ask me why, but I feel like picking a fight today. I came out of a 3 hour meeting today, faint with hunger, and ready to take a break, get out of the office, and maybe dissect some of what had happened.
Instead, I was left to my own devices, and as a result, had to entertain myself. I ended up sleeping in the humidity, desperately shifting to get out of the sun's direct rays.
Now that I'm back I find my boyfriend's written back offering to go to the pub for lunch. Thanks for offering. But what's the point? It's obvious that he wasn't really interested. He's had this huge report deadline for the past week and a half. And he's spent the last week having lunch at his desk. Even when he forgot to bring our lunch in yesterday, somehow we still ended up eating at our desks. I'm sorry. But I'm sick and tired of it.
We went out to eat last night, and part of the things that I've discovered I love about eating out is that for however we long sit out there, an hour, or two, or three, I have his undivided attention. We get to sit and talk. But all he was intent on doing last night was eating dinner and leaving. No downtime. I hid my disappointment, but I tell you, after today, I'm really kind've sick of it.
Rationally you might take his side, that I didn't give him a chance. That I didn't get to express myself properly and wait for his response. But I was tired of waiting around. We'd both just sat there for three hours about a meeting that means imminent change in my work life, and the last thing I needed was to wait for him to reply back. I can't help it that my blood sugar runs low, and I need to eat.
I just don't care.
I really and truly feel like picking a god damn fight.
I'm really angry. And on top of that I feel neglected. If I told him, he'd probably just get exasperated with me, and tell me my arguments had no basis, and he'd probably be right. But I can't help the way I feel. I can't help it, that even though there is no legitimate reason for it, I feel so angry. And even though I have no legitimate claim to this anger, I still feel like I deserve sympathy - which of course I won't get from him.
Sometimes I feel so frustrated. I feel limited. In some ways I feel like I have to live by his values. Which of course isn't true. It's just that if I don't, I have to live with the consequences. I have to accept that he won't be happy with me, and so forth. But I can't. All I seem to do is live for acceptance. And it's hard. Feeling like someone disapproves you. Especially when that person is your boyfriend.
I just feel angry. I feel like punching something and crying my eyes out.
I know part of the reason why I'm so upset. I wrote mum a letter on the weekend setting out that I would only pay her when she came in to see us. But she hasn't replied to me yet. And I've been on edge for the past 4 days. I'm worried that the letter never got to her. So I wrote my brother today via email, to check if he knew she had received it or not. But he hasn't replied.
I also haven't been sleeping as much as I should. I wake up constantly tired. I need to go to bed before 11. But I never get to. And the last two nights, I've gone to bed feeling like I'm sinking into sleep. I feel so exhausted at the end of the day.
Sometimes I feel so selfish and insular. Constantly wanting and wishing the world spun around me. Sometimes my boyfriend caters to it, and I love him for it. But at other times, like today, all I feel is put out. Maybe you can argue that I just didn't give him time. But to be honest, I felt like I was pushing for something that perhaps I shouldn't have to. I don't know. I'm just very Grr.
I know he's stressed over his dumb report. But I'm tired of trying to be understanding - even though I know I haven't really tried to be.
The money thing is killing me too. I don't feel right setting money aside for mum. I'd rather just give it to her. And while he constantly goes on about money being 'ours' I don't feel it. I don't feel like I can take any of his to use. Unless of course he offers to pay. I guess in some ways I still view us as two different entities. Sometimes I just wish I had enough money to not have to care about who uses what. But I don't. I need a second job. I need the extra cash. Not for anything in particular. But just for the security. To know that it's mine.
Past Butterfly
When they first met, it was an uneasy relationship. She thought he was outspoken, arrogant. One of those who beat to his own drum. She religiously tried her best to avoid him. He, on the other hand didn't think much of her, other than noting that they had similar interests in politics, and that she was beautiful.
And then one day the tension broke. On the premise of going on a book jaunt to purchase related books for research, they began to get to know each other. It also helped that they were the only two who committed to the outing.
Chatting together, as he began his usual routine of picking on people in jest, she found herself welcoming his attentions. They had the same taste in music. She enjoyed his crazy notions, the tongue-in-cheek jibes, and the in-jokes began to amass. She kept her cards to herself, giving off mixed signals. It was nice to flirt again, to have someone pay attention to her. And despite already having a boyfriend, she began to respond. It was only after an incoming phone call, that he discovered she was taken. But that was ok. So it meant they'd have to be just friends. Just friends.
Soon they began to take the train home together. He introduced her to his friends, and they started to sit with each other in class. They began to spend a little more time with each other. A msn chat here, a msn chat there. But no more.
A little while later, her computer broke, and he offered to fix it for her. Under the premise that he took away her social life by taking away her computer, they began to talk to each other every night on the phone, discussing the day's class, passing notes and chatting about mundane silly things. And slowly they began to get closer, neither acknowledging the looming truth that she was taken. It was just an inconvenience.
One evening coming back from class as they joked with each other, in the midst of peak hour, he nearly kissed her. At the last moment they drew away. Him reminded at the last moment that she was taken. Her, barely realising what had just happened. She had found a niche for him, a 'guy friend' that she could do, talk, and share just about anything with, without having to 'put out.' He was company. The moment passed and it was like it had never happened.
A catalyst perhaps. As she stepped off the train, a friendly observer asked him how long they had been going out for. And he looked shocked and laughed. And in his mind, he wondered how much he did in fact like her.
In a sms to describe the ludicrous assumption, he laughed it off. She read the sms and laughed it off too. But in her mind, she wondered why he was laughing. Was she not desirable enough for him?
And so she set about breaking down his barriers to protect her ego.
Late night chats.
And the honest admission: "I like you very very much."
And his awkward reply: "I like you too."
And the butterflies started again.
There is nothing like the forbidden to make things exciting. To make a person lose their head. So enticing. So intoxicating. But soon the boyfriend was a forgotten memory, discarded, lying in the dust. He was after all, just an inconvenience.
Guilt set in after the first stolen kiss. And a hypocritical moral sensibility led her to tell her boyfriend the truth - that she had been kissed. And of course that she had allowed it, and kissed him back. He tasted and smelt different. It was new. It was exciting.
And soon the boyfriend was fading. Angry at the aggressor, lost at her reaction, he was still willing to forgive her for her transgressions. But she was lost. She didn't tell him about the stolen kisses that followed.
She excused her actions, pointing to his constant absences. "How can we have a relationship if you're never there?"
And on a rare afternoon when they had some private time together, she admitted that she was bored. She was bored with him. The holes in their relationship reared their ugly heads. She admitted to herself that the relationship was really just a sham. They really had nothing in common. All she'd wanted him for was the sex. And he was never that good to begin with.
Choked with the knowledge that she'd betrayed him, lied about her love, ensared him in her web, she felt compelled to let him down lightly. She made excuses. She used his love against her. Because she knew she could. Like a textbook breakup she used all her fears and transgressions as reasons for the breakup. But she twisted the truth to make it seem that he was the one in fact who had pushed her away. His constant absences, the abrupt phone calls, the dominance of his family, his inability to be punctual.She no longer loved him. She became petty, listing his faults. But always holding back the real truth - she had never loved him in the first place.
And so the karmic wheel turned. In the midst of handing in theses, her new lover broke. "Let's just be friends. I don't want to screw this up. I need to focus on this thesis. I can't be a good boyfriend to you now." And in her confusion, her hurt, all she could think of was, "but we can help each other if we're together. We can support each other." But her pleas fell on deaf ears.
Deserted, alone, the tears began to flow. The thesis got written, and she began to ignore him. He floundered. He attempted to remain friends. But all she wanted was a relationship. And he wasn't willing to play.
Finding solace in music, she returned to her thesis.
The semester over, the hell put aside, she reattempted to become friends. Confusion was the name of the day. He hesitated. In one last ditch attempt to rekindle the relationship, she asked him to commit. And despite his desires to do so, all he could see was failure. He got scared. He wanted to play safe. Conservative. And in the process lost her.
In an analysis of why they had gotten into the mess they had, the revelation came.
"I don't think I ever loved you enough."
The tears rolled silently down her cheeks. The final nail in the coffin. No return. End of the road.
