I hope you’re Tuesday has been a pleasant one, thus far. Since beginning this blog about two weeks ago, it’s been my goal to be positive, uplifting and friendly, hoping to be a place where readers can visit for lighthearted reading and tips. Though, in doing so, I realize it is not entirely “me,” and lately, I’ve been feeling particularly nostalgic about my past, the present, and how it affects me. Not wanting to be pessimistic or overly melancholy, today’s musing will be a brief one, providing some “food for thought.” However, before I share with you what’s been on my mind, let’s focus on the first meal of the day:
Breakfast (Tuesday, July 23, 2013):
1 container Yoplait 100 Greek Vanilla Yogurt (Truly one of the *best* vanilla Greek yogurts in my opinion, the vanilla flavor comes through with a vengeance, easily combined with what it happens to be mixed with, if anything. It’s always a yogurt flavor I look forward to and one I recommend if you happen to be searching for a decent vanilla Greek yogurt, or simply would like another variety to add to your repertoire.)
1 cup Special K Red Berries (Yes, a repeat from yesterday, but I am attempting to complete this box, before I can move onto the next!)
1 cup Barbara’s Bakery Original Puffins (Box completed! Don’t worry, though, I have two other Puffins flavors in my cabinet that are just WAITING to be devoured!)
1 Banana (Petite, sweet and satisfying – just the way I like it!)
So, I’ll be honest with you, I often think and reflect on old friendships I’ve had; it’s hard not to when I still live close to where I grew up. Sometimes, I’ll run into people I shared many experiences with and they often look the other way, turning a blind eye to me, pretending they haven’t clue as to who I am. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting, as I watch them turn away, or it didn’t make me wonder what I did wrong, if anything. Even if I don’t happen to see former friends in person, due to Facebook, they are still present, at least in the social media realm, in my life.
For awhile, upon graduating from high school, or even prior to graduating, I would look at the photos posted by my former group of very close best friends, seeing them smiling and sharing moments with one another, but I would search and search in their photos for someone or something, who wasn’t there. It took some time for me to realize the “someone” or “something,” I was searching for, was me. For many years, it was always the 5 of us, conquering the world together, spending copious amounts of time at each others’ houses, but more specifically one girl’s home in particular. We would scour the mall for hours, daring each other to run up to the guys we thought were “cute,” buying matching clothing, and wiping each others’ tears when life got in the way. The way I saw it, we would be friends forever, bridesmaids in each others’ weddings, maybe even having our children become best friends like us.
Our senior year of high school, it all came crashing down. Having known these best friends since the 6th grade, I watched each of them turn away from me, soon becoming a distant memory only recollected by the scrapbooks they once made me, the words they wrote on a “Xanga” site we all used to maintain, and the feelings I stuffed deep down inside me. Having battled my share of personal demons and pain, perhaps looking back, it was too much for them to take on. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I expected too much, failing to realize we were still teenagers at the time. It still hurts today, though, at 25-years-old, because it all feels so unfinished, a door left open, and I wonder, if it will ever be closed, or if the pain will ever truly subside, as I contemplated where things went wrong.
Months ago, I tried for the second time, to reach out to one of my former best friends in particular only to receive no reply. It’s not her fault and I suppose when I think about it, it’s not mine. She has her reasons for why she chose to disconnect and as a mature adult, I have to accept that. It’s hard to brush it aside, when I see other friends marrying, with their best friends, whose friendships I watched blossom, are at their side. It makes me think of what I could have had, if things had been different, if my mind hadn’t betrayed me, all those years prior.
About two weeks ago, while reading the newspaper as I typically do, I stumbled across the Obituaries page. It’s page I come into contact with each day, at quick glance, not expecting to see anyone I actually know, or at least I hope I don’t. That day, however, I did. It wasn’t my direct friend, but a former close friends’ older brother, a guy a couple years older than us, who often drove us where we wanted to go and was particularly close to my friend. This friend and I were close in a way, where we understood each other. She shared with me the pain and heartache her family endured and trusted me with these tender, raw truths. Seeing the obituary of her beloved brother threw me for a loop. Instantly, I was transported back to the year prior when my former best friend’s father passed away. That time, I immediately wrote to her, send her family card and attempted to reach out. Though it wasn’t the first time I tried to reach out, my attempts went unanswered. I tried to understand and place myself in her shoes, a difficult act enough to complete.
Weeks later, I still wrestle with whether or not I should try to reach out to this friend, who is clearly in pain, attempting to make sense of all that has happened. Thoughts of my former friends often fill my mind, as the pain is still a viable presence in my life. I try to silence it, but sometimes, especially during times like this, it reminds me of everything and everyone I left behind.