We often go through experiences that may be resemblant to one another more than you think but we feel things differently. You’re the only one who knows why you feel things the way you do, why you can’t move on or why you choose to let go because it is obviously not your place. So, I think it is clear to say that there’re no right or wrong, there’re no good cops or bad cops. There’s only the perspective of the narrator who is enforcing sympathy towards one side over the other. However, the reality might still be cold, thoughtless and hard to comprehend, but beheld only in the hearts of those who are willing to see the truth.
I had a friend once who went through some hardship -which I know nothing about because I am a terrible friend, I guess. He posted about how melancholic he felt on social media (because that’s where people sincerely open up about the on-goings of their lives). As jaded as I was at the time, I never bothered to approach him. Weeks passed and he basically wanted to unmeet me; like yeah sure we had a long run, but it was over. I honestly don’t think he needed someone who was going through his second attack of depression and who was not in the right mentality nor shape to be a companion, rather than a friend, to try to make him feel better. I didn’t ditch him. After all, You can not enter someone’s life and then just leave. Maybe, I was the supervillain in his story; the trainwreck who left his bench when he needed me the most, I don’t know. I thought about my own peace of mind and tried to place myself above that last number on my priority list. That made me one selfish mean sadist. Perhaps, that was the problem.
I remember; I remember the last time I heard from him afterwards, the last time I saw his face. I still remember what was said and done at that moment. I remember everything and that is my curse. He told me that everything I did meant nothing when they were asked for. He disregarded everything that came after my ‘however’s. He told me that he deserves someone who wants to be his friend as much as he wants them to be his. Although I think that what we deserve and what we get are always imbalanced, I really hope he finds that one person who treats him for what he really is. It’s absolutely ironic how artistic we become when our hearts get broken, isn’t it? I truly wish people would appreciate more the mere beinghood of the ones who fought in their battles rather than opening the floodgates for the hard feelings to the ones whose paths have parted a long time ago. Because a long held grudge can make a heart bitter and bitterness is corrosive. It can rewrite memories as if it were scrubbing a crime scene clean. It's only through these beautiful tragedies that we learn to value what was really important all along.
I had a friend once who went through some hardship -which I know nothing about because I am a terrible friend, I guess. He posted about how melancholic he felt on social media (because that’s where people sincerely open up about the on-goings of their lives). As jaded as I was at the time, I never bothered to approach him. Weeks passed and he basically wanted to unmeet me; like yeah sure we had a long run, but it was over. I honestly don’t think he needed someone who was going through his second attack of depression and who was not in the right mentality nor shape to be a companion, rather than a friend, to try to make him feel better. I didn’t ditch him. After all, You can not enter someone’s life and then just leave. Maybe, I was the supervillain in his story; the trainwreck who left his bench when he needed me the most, I don’t know. I thought about my own peace of mind and tried to place myself above that last number on my priority list. That made me one selfish mean sadist. Perhaps, that was the problem.
I remember; I remember the last time I heard from him afterwards, the last time I saw his face. I still remember what was said and done at that moment. I remember everything and that is my curse. He told me that everything I did meant nothing when they were asked for. He disregarded everything that came after my ‘however’s. He told me that he deserves someone who wants to be his friend as much as he wants them to be his. Although I think that what we deserve and what we get are always imbalanced, I really hope he finds that one person who treats him for what he really is. It’s absolutely ironic how artistic we become when our hearts get broken, isn’t it? I truly wish people would appreciate more the mere beinghood of the ones who fought in their battles rather than opening the floodgates for the hard feelings to the ones whose paths have parted a long time ago. Because a long held grudge can make a heart bitter and bitterness is corrosive. It can rewrite memories as if it were scrubbing a crime scene clean. It's only through these beautiful tragedies that we learn to value what was really important all along.
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