It's been a while since I posted here, that I know. It's not that I haven't had anything to say (anyone who's seen me knows that for a fact); it's more that I haven't wanted to say it, because I didn't want to believe it.
Over the past three months, I have had my heart first turned inside out, then prodded cruelly, then torn asunder. As I was picking up the pieces about a month and a half ago, I was hit upside the head again, and had to start from square one all over again.
The amazing part? This was all done by one person. And it wasn't my mother. It was, in fact, one of my best friends.
~
Those who know me know that I am, despite outward appearances, fairly patient with most people (or I try to be, at least; it doesn't always work). I mean, I put up with my mother for twelve remembered years before finally blowing up at her, and getting fed up. But, in that scenario, I had every other week where I could escape her and relax, and I could feel safe. I have recently found that my patience, even though it has grown over the year I have been away from her, doesn't last nearly as long when the annoyance can reach me wherever I am.
I said earlier that everything started three months ago, but that wasn't really the whole truth; things only came to a head three months ago. In actuality, I have been aware of the problem that lead to the past three months since January of this year.
The problem is also one I am not used to dealing with, just to make matters worse. I, by nature, do not share my emotions with the whole world. I face the world with logic, and prefer to out-think my problems, rather than feeling them, and my reasoning is, at least to me, simple; it hurts too much for me to feel in the way I want to. I had my emotions trashed by my mother as a child, and I learned early on that feeling would only get myself hurt, so I made a conscious decision to not show my emotions publicly. But the problem I ran into was one of pure emotion, and I soon found myself drowning in an unfamiliar sea.
For all of my remembered life, my primary focus for the times when I was with Mom was keeping myself alive and unhurt. That left little time for me to develop little kid crushes when I was young, and, as a consequence, I have actually only found myself having a crush on one actual person in my life, and that was a long time ago. (Fictional characters, on the other hand, I fall for all the time.)
So, when I found myself confronted by one of my best friends (who will now be referred to as M., for simplicity's sake) about who I liked, I found myself at a bit of a loss. I listed off the characters I was currently obsessing over, and I think she may have thought I was mocking her, for she got really defensive, and started pushing for information about real people I liked. I told her the honest truth; I do not have a crush on anyone. This did not sit well with her, and she started insinuating that I had a crush on one of my senpais in karate, to which my response was, simply put, never in a million years. She didn't like this, either, and took the opportunity of my staying for afterschool to badger me more about this for over an hour. She also brought the question of my sexuality into things, to which my answer was, and is, I don't know, I don't particularly care, and that I'll find out when I find out. She was, once again, not pleased with my answers, and with the fact that I was remaining outwardly calm, even if I was greatly wanting to scream at her to shut up and leave me alone.
That was the beginning of a passive-aggressive fight between M. and I that has lasted to this day of July 31st, 2012. (Other highlights of this horrible monstrosity of a 'fight' include her botched kissing of me the night of our final concert, and my quick retaliation peck on the cheek about three days later, for which I profusely apologized the next day. (That last ended in her threatening physical violence against me if I tried that again, to which my reply was that I wasn't planning on it anyway, and that it hadn't worked.) Another is the night where I completely broke down, and ended up sobbing in the dark of night on a different friend's lawn with my head in M's hands (I'm still honestly not sure why; I think it had something to do with the fact that I was unsure of what to do).) But today is the day that my patience has finally run out.
I have been trying my very hardest to fix this now since it started. I have called her now more times than I care to remember, and have emailed her probably double that number. I have told her what I want from this, and what I think is wrong (my answer was that I couldn't figure out why she was still mad at me, as I wasn't mad at her, and hadn't been for many moons). I have asked her what she thought, and tried to be calm through this whole thing. I have even tried to show her my emotions as much as I can. And what have I gotten in return? I have gotten only three calls back from her. I have waited weeks on end for emails. I have been yelled at for not talking, and then yelled at for not asking questions at the right time. I've been yelled at for not caring about her (if I didn't care, I would have broken all ties with her when this started).
And I'm done trying to help. My patience has run out now; if I keep trying to fix this, I will lose my mind. I haven't slept well for three months now from the stress. My relations with my parents have been stretched to their limits (they will vouch for this). But, even though I've given up trying to fix things, doesn't mean that I'm done being friends with her. In fact, this is my last-ditch effort to save this; by severing my ties with M. until the school year begins, I am trying to give her time to fix whatever is wrong in her life.
And the sad part? She will probably, even if this works, still lay the entire blame for this at my feet. Am I prepared for that? Maybe. Is this going to be worth this in the long run? I don't know. All I know is that I am giving up this battle in an attempt to keep this alive. I hope all of this pain is worth it, for both of us.
