Last night I had dinner + coffee with one of my closest friends from college. It’s been months since we last saw each other but it only seemed like yesterday. Time flies I guess but between us we’re still the same freshmen students who sat close to each other and bonded over some stuff I couldn’t remember anymore. We were close then we’ve grown apart. We fought a few times I remember but we always managed to forgive each other. That’s how we are I guess. That’s how true friendship works. No matter how long you two have been apart, you can always pick up where you left off. And I’m so happy to have her as a friend.

Every time we do meet, we always end up talking about the same things – the same problems we’ve had over the years. We talked about our lives and how much has changed or everything remained the same. We’re still back in square one in our lives. Sure, we’ve moved on to different and better jobs, found and lost relationships, dropped and gained weight etcetera. But the bottom line is, we’re both still stuck and trapped in our hells and we’re both trying really hard to get out.

She’s one of the few people in the world whom I can talk to about anything. She knows all about my secrets and I’ve shared to her all of my problems. I haven’t been the most reliable friend I know but I’m doing my best to always listen. She’s helped me through so many things and I love how she could always manage to look at things from a different perspective. I’ve been so used to being alone and dealing with my problems by myself that sometimes I forget how a single conversation with someone can totally turn your attitude toward things upside down.

I’ve fucked up. I’m not sure how many times in my life or how many more times I will but one thing is for sure – I’m aware I’m a fuck up. I’ve always been wondering what happened to me. What crazy fucked up situation happened that made me this way? Was there ever a traumatic experience that happened to me? Was I dropped when I was a baby? Did I get into a car crash, got an amnesia and then damaged my brain? I’m trying to find a reason, an explanation that will make me understand all of this. All of what’s happening to me. I’m running out of time.

I told her about this. I told her about how I’m still trying to figure out at what point I became a fucking mess and response was I couldn’t. She told me that there’s no particular moment or no particular person that made me this way. It’s everyone and everything that happened to me. And with every single person, with every single experience I gain and lose a part of myself. By now I realized that as we grow older each year a little part of us dies and until finally nothing’s left.

For every heartbreak you lose a part of you, a part of your heart actually breaks and when it does it’s into thousand little pieces. So when you’re trying to piece them back again, you’ll realize some parts have already gone missing and you’ll never be complete again. For every person who breaks it they will always take away something with them. And maybe that’s why I’ve grown cold. I’ve been doubtful. Untrusting. Because of all the love I’ve given and lost in my years of existence, only a little piece of the original is left. And right now I’m not sure if it’s enough. Not sure if my heart can handle one more heartbreak. She was right. I lose a part myself every single time I give it to someone. And I’m already at my almost limits. I have to save me from myself.

2 responses »

  1. hi all im alone need good gay friend in riyadh
    magibr29@yahoo.com

  2. Ian says:

    There are these two lines from a poem of Charles Bukowski. It says

    “you can’t beat death but
    you can beat death in life, sometimes.”

    People can die, not just physically, but spiritually too. I’m not talking about the soul. If you observe children, you will notice how they are so full of life. The moment they start school, they slowly change. Most adults are almost jaded, maybe dead inside. St. Exupery wrote “The Little Prince” precisely to show what changes when a child grows old (but not necessarily grow up). Something inside dies. It is not just because of heartbreaks. It is much more general. I believe that the yearning for love (to be loved) is a cry for help from the slow death inflicted by the world. You can beat this form of death, Jake, if you try, if you know what it is.

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