… was hilarious. Really. It was.
Only the end made me so very sad. There is something about having a best friend of the same sex that makes life easier. My husband is absolutely there for me in every way, but I can’t talk to him about periods, or my ridiculous hormonal-ness or giggle about penises and him be on the same page. He tries, but, well, you know.
The two girls I’ve connected with most both moved hundreds of miles away this past year. The other ones…. I reach out, or try to, but they are either to wrapped up in themselves or their own lives to reach back… which I totally get… but it doesn’t suck any less….
And then I meet all these other people, lady’s I would genuinely like to spend my time with.. and what happens? Nothing. Putting myself out there is hard enough, I have to bully my feelings into toughening up so they don’t get damaged….Maybe I’m just in a different place than they are. It’s hard to be open at work. No one can get to know me really, I’m in work mode. Maybe I just foolishly continue to seek friendship from people who still think of others in terms of ‘coolness’. There is also that possibility I’m just really that boring. I don’t think I am though. I crack myself up all the time. It just sucks that kindness and openheartedness and non-judgementalness are less attractive characteristics than how ‘cool’ or witty someone is. I’m probably just in a mood.
It’s not like I’m dying. I’ll be ok. I need to be more ok with this, or the lack of this. I’m still working on it…putting myself out there with nothing in return is taking it’s toll though…
I miss Marina so badly. I miss our dorky jokes, our photography adventures, the knowledge that I could tell her anything and she wouldn’t think less of me or judge me and vica versa. I miss her laugh and her smile and her hugs and the ridiculous amount of nonsense texting.
I miss Miriam too…. So many late nights after work philosophizing about all kinds of shit. Knowing she would make me smile, somehow. Her tenderness and over thinking everything while I softly talked her down. Her urge to continuously improve the things in her life that she didn’t like about herself. Her laugh, and those incredible little ringlets that would find their way out of her ponytail.
I love people too hard.
I need to put on some big girl pants and go to bed.
