It’s already 7:00 PM, and I have not studied for my finals at all. Why? Because I’ve been spending all day watching vampire diaries, watching modern family, and taking crazy trips down memory lane. Like every pathetic girl in the world, I have a lot of embarrassing and frustrating boy-stories. I honestly should start a series.
I remember the first guy I dated. He was such a good person. And I was just so, so horrible. I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t even want to date. I was stupid and selfish enough to just say “yes” and then change my mind later. I guess I didn’t take into consideration his feelings, or I just didn’t know what it meant to care. Anyways, for good reason (because I was a crazy bitch) he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore after I broke up with him. Somehow, I was stupid and egotistical enough to think that he’d still want to be friends with me afterwards. And to no one’s surprise but mine, he didn’t. I was heartbroken. I went crazy. I literally did everything I could to try to get his attention, to win his friendship back.
That’s one of those situations where you pronounce the acronym “lol” outloud. Yeah, not the greatest time of my life right there. Just imagine someone crawling back literally on hands and knees, maybe covered in dirt, sprinkle on some beetles, hair a mess, nose a dripping, eyes puffy. That was me. Why wouldn’t someone want to be friends with me? Wah-wah, boohoo, cry me a river. (which I literally did)
Obvious answer: I was a horrible person.
At least because of that embarrassing and traumatic experience, I’ve learned to become a better friend. I’ve also learned that everything is probably your own fault. You can’t just blame someone for not wanting to talk to you. It’s their own prerogative. And why would you want a faux friendship to keep yourself happy anyways?
I guess a part of growing older is remembering a bunch of shit that makes you want to draft up anonymous apology letters and stick them in past-friends’ mailboxes, or at least facebook inboxes. It’s silly that something as small as this occasionally keeps me up. It’s pretty pathetic that I get hung up on high school things sometimes. But I think everyone would be lying if they said that they don’t at least think about it and wonder what would have happened if things went differently.
curse beauty of humanity though, isn’t it?