Sunday, April 24, 2011
I have been going through a lot of drama lately and I am committed to writing on this page about my life. This was drama I did not need and it started by asking a question. A question that a two answer reply did not seem satisfactory. How easily people can come and go like makeshift humans in one's life that I have known 45/50 years out of my life. For me, the whole chain of events don't seem real. It seems like a life interrupted by constant pain and shrinking joy. Do I need this? No, I don't really need it and why am I qualifying things on the same emotional level as the things that surround me? These people are 2000 miles away and yet I have upgraded their significance in my life into the number one position or almost number two. The very core of my being, who I am, who I am a part of is connected with this family. Am I really going to be called "different" or "not the same" because I demand an answer? Why are the requirements for friendship so little? And does time dissipate everything? My body is resisting pondering anymore broader scope questions about this troubled friendship. I want to crawl under a rock and die or change my identity. Why is it important? Because I see myself as being a part of her life. And I was. I am, remaining in the fragment of her splintered existence where I am forced to take a number and wait for a reply.