Making it Or Faking it?

Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and Spotify was playing. I hear Mom rummaging around in the kitchen downstairs, too, so I guess that screws the whole part of the poem that talks about “not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse”. Eh, whatever. I don’t even like Thanksgiving that much. It’s a holiday that reminds me how I can be sitting in a room full of people who love me, and still feel all alone. One of my favorite book characters, Charlie off of The Perks of Being A Wallflower, describes it better. He says, “I am very interested and fascinated how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other.” For me, that applies not only to family, but also to the whole fair-weather friends phenomenon that high school brings. People are so fake to their bosses, their mother-in-laws, their neighbors, teachers, even the cashier at the grocery store. As much as I understand why people do this, I wish I didn’t.

But anyway, so it’s the day before Thanksgiving. I’m still in my pajamas, no bra, messy hair, and smeary glasses–true to the laziness that has always plagued me since I began kindergarten. Isn’t it funny how school motivates you to be lazier than ever? But hey, I’ll get to that French homework eventually (I was planning on doing it yesterday, but I took two naps instead. My bad). Today I’m going to hang out with…with…uh, a close friend (I’ll get to explaining that later) and then have dinner tonight with my old group therapy friends. I’m so happy and excited for both! I haven’t seen my group members since August, and I cannot wait to hear how they’ve been doing. They are unlike all of my other friends, because we learned the deep, dark things about each other first, and then the trivial stuff like favorite colors and what their favorite subject in school is later. They know the hard-and-fast truths about my life without all the fluff I spin to other people…if I respect anyone’s output and advice, it’s theirs.

And I really want to know what they think of my recent break-up. Because I woke up this morning and realized how fine I really am. I feel okay about myself, about being without him, and how things ended. I miss how things used to be with us, but recognize that it’s in the past. But I don’t understand this…He was the person I was with for a year, who I loved with all my heart and soul…shouldn’t I be in the fetal position now, crying my eyes out? I cried right after it happened, and then the next night a bit, but after that poof! No tears, no sighs, no loneliness. Am I being fake to myself about how I feel? Maybe my group friends will be able to tell if this is real or if my subconscious is just repressing the whole thing.

I’ll have to save the “close friend” explanation for a later post. See, in case my recent ex still reads my blog I’d like to save this part of my life that makes me look like a true-blue asshole for a time when our break-up isn’t quite as fresh in our minds. I have no regrets, and am happy with all the recent decisions I’ve made, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about hurting his feelings. I always will, of course.

Alright. Time to shower, to eat, and get this show on the road. Why sit back and look forward to life when you could be out living it?


About diagnosemylife

Okay, if I can't keep all this stuff about my life in my head, how do you expect me to shove it in this little box?

Posted on 11/27/2013, in This Whole "Life" Thing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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