Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

No, this is not about a boyfriend. Sadly, I seem to have a particular lack of those over the past few years.

No, this is about a friend. Well... yes, friend probably would be the best word to describe things.

The amazing thing about college is that suddenly you are thrown in with a group of people who know nothing about you, have no expectations of your personality, and are just as scared as you are. This is a great chance to live up to your own hopes of becoming a better person and really cleaning off the slate. That was the first thing that really endeared college to me, if only because I had spent so many years before that building a persona and keeping good people away from me.

At school, I was able to make a group of friends who would shape the next few years of my life--and will have created a change that will last all of my life. Of the original group, though, I am only friends with two of them now. It's a very peculiar thing, to not be friends any more.

I suppose I'll go into storytime, if only for my own benefit. The stories, I don't think, will have as much impact on you.

The first friend I made at college was a girl who goes by the handle of Shematite online. I had moved in a little early (due to being on the Freshman Housing Board) and everything was... absolutely lonely. When I walked past her door, her nametag fell off. So, I picked it up and knocked, hoping she would be in. Shematite seemed amazed to see another person, and when I heard Nightwish blaring from her computer we got talking. It was wonderful, like I had found someone I could honestly relate to. We became such fast friends in that week that people assumed we had known each other for years instead of days. It was wonderful. She was a writer just as much as me, and we had a million things in common.

But there were times, though, when things didn't work. She would randomly disappear into her room for hours, occasionally days, and would never come out. It was heartbreaking, especially since we could tell something was wrong and she would never talk about it. Well, in the coming school year Shematite, Kit, and I decided to live together because we got along so well. We'd found the perfect place that had great rent--even if I would have to share a room for the first time in my life (Shematite couldn't stand to share a room, so I had to). When it came time for classes, though, Shematite finally sat us down and told us she wasn't registered. She couldn't afford school, but had moved down to Cedar anyway. We were hurt and confused, wondering why she hadn't talked to us about it. Then came the waves of sickness, which would follow anyone in the house getting sick and lasting for weeks after. It only got worse and worse until, at last, Shematite (we presume) got fired from her job because she never went. And then she was admitted to the hospital.

She was gone within the week, not really bothering to say goodbye or anything. I was hurt by it, hurt to the point that I did some stupid things. When she would bother to email, however rarely, I would be a bit snipey in return and never let her forget that she had run out on us. Eventually, thankfully, I did get past this point, and I tried to get her talking to me again. But she is the same old Shematite.

We invited her to come to Harry Potter, as a sort of reunion of the old gang, and she agreed to come. Two hours before the midnight screening we had tickets to, she texted to tell us her parents had taken both cars to Brigham. We wondered why she hadn't told them she was coming. I consider that friendship dead, though it has never officially been declared that in so many words. I figure it is for the best, though, because she clearly has issues she needs to work out and I have things in my own life I need to change. I wish Shematite the best, especially as far as her health goes, but I honestly don't think I will ever see her again. Consider it a gut feeling.

A more gruesome story concerns another person I counted a friend: Zach. He was a return missionary who came back for spring semester and lived on the floor below ours. I met him in my History of Theatre 2 class, and we immediately hit it off. Zach was a warm person, quiet and thoughtful, and remained my friend up until this past spring semester. Suddenly, it was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet. There is no chance of my talking to him again, though, as he attempted to murder two of his friends earlier in the summer. Honestly, I am just glad that it was not me or someone I was close to. It's scary to realize that a person can change and be so frightening without your knowing it.

Another, Mike, is really not to be blamed for our loss of contact. He went on a mission, and I am rather horrible at writing. Once in a while we still email, but it feels very much like I am talking to a suit and tie rather than the friend I knew. It's... disturbing, in a way, but he is having great success. Mike will do great things, I'm certain.

The last is probably the most painful. I met Rori at the college dorms, not too horribly long after I met Shematite. We didn't particularly hit it off at first--I don't really remember how we became friends at all. She was the outgoing blond with a plastic smile, and I was the surly brunette who somehow made the table crack up with laughter. But, we became close and even started to write together. For that, I will be eternally grateful. Rori helped me develop some of the greatest characters I will ever have, and she also helped me find the weakness in my own character. However, the discovery of my weaknesses came through the worst form: exploitation of them. Rori and I could bring out the worst in each other, everything from struggles with religion and sexuality to how anxious we could be. Most of the time, things worked very well. We would ignore the bad and enjoy the good while it lasted.

But, things just got to the point of being too much lately.

I recently prayed to find a way to work past all of the negativity in my life. Between my struggles with abuse, my horrid health, fights with friends, work, and religion, I felt like I was drowning. Then, out of the seeming blue, Rori stopped talking to me. I knew she was avoiding me, and I could feel the coming conversation--it was just a matter of how long it would take to break. Today... today was the day.

I don't know if you've ever broken up with a friend before, it is a rather strange experience. We agreed that we were not the best people to be friends at this point in our lives, and thought it would be best to... just not be in contact until things are better. I know that I need to clean my life up a great deal--I have struggles that are so personal only the Lord and I know about them. I also know that there is a lot she needs to do, which she can't do with me as a friend. So, for now at least, we're just... acquaintances with a history. It will be for the best, I know it. It just hurts like nothing else. Time and the Lord, though, will make things work out in the end. Everything will be okay as long as I do the work I am supposed to do.

And if Rori and I never get to being close friends again? Well, then it was not meant to be. I'm only twenty; there is a lot of life left to be explored. I am certain that I will make more friends in my life, and that things will get better. If nothing else, I am on the road to change.

I'm grateful that I got to have these friends at all, that they were able to come into my life. Because of them, I have a great novel that I hope to finish and publish, memories and stories that I'll gladly tell my kids, and knowledge about myself I otherwise would not have. Sometimes, that is all you can hope for when a friendship has to be put on the shelf.

I just hope I become the sort of person that is really worth being friends with. Things are not going to be easy in the midst of all of the coming adjustment, but I know I can survive it--I just may cry a little more.

I love you all, even those that have been put on the shelf. God bless you all, and may the path we walk be only as bumpy as it needs to be.

Catharsis In A Can

You know, there is something amazing about a can of paint and a roller. At first they seem like just simple things, nothing more than pigment and something to spread it with. But then you start to think about what you can do with paint: change the feel of a room, banish memories of someone who hurt you, make yourself feel better... It's magic.

Today I got a bit of my own catharsis by painting Phillip's former bedroom a bright shade of yellow. Oh, it's not too bright... more of a pastel yellow than anything. It was so wonderful, though. Suddenly it was not his room, but instead the room where Mom was going to do her painting. It was a room full of brightness and hope, and no trace of him. Even his furniture got pulled out. Do you know how much better that makes me feel? He has no room to come back to, now, and that means he is not going to be coming home.

I don't ever want him to.

Dad sometimes talks like he will, that it will just be a matter of time. If Phillip comes home, though, they simply won't see me again. I'll refuse to step foot into that house again.

As it is, I am considering doing something with my room, too. Right now it looks like the corner of the house where I was just slipped into as an afterthought. I plan on changing that. Moving a few bookcases, rearranging the room, adding some better lighting, and (of course) painting that walls will make it much better. Hopefully I will feel more like I belong with all of the changes, which is what I have been longing for. This house never really felt like home, but... it's starting to.

In other news, I got a new beta today. After Larry the Unquenchable Sea Monster died (after two wonderful years together) I did not get another fish, but today... Well, it just seemed like a great time to have a new beginning. His name is Katsu (meaning "victorious") and he is a dark blue, teal, crimson, and green crown beta fish. At the moment he is investigating the plant in his bowl, and looks as happy as can be. I'm very excited. Hopefully we'll have a great two years together. If I can manage it, I will try to get pictures of him up in the near future.

Love you all!