On friendships

Fear and pain.

Being afraid, hurting, tiring of it all. I am afraid of what people see when they look at me. What they have constructed within their minds, if I live up to it. Or if I am even in their thoughts at all, perhaps I am nothing. A passing acquaintance, a friend once, now a stranger with a faint bit of warmth attached to them. Threads tying me to others are breaking. Wearing thin, or tearing out at the roots, having been attached with ideas and images that are flawed and false. Maybe I should have tried harder, held on tighter. But you can’t force people to stay, can you? People grow apart, feelings change. Fall out of love, even of the platonic sort. You still care about them, but you are a fleeting thought in their mind. You want to ask them if you are still friends, but they won’t open the message. Life moves on, but you are stuck in the past. Tied up and tangled in all the cut strings of your failed friendships, left behind with your unrequited care and love for others. 

But that’s the thing about friendship isn’t it? It’s harder to quantify than a romantic relationship, harder to tell if you still mean something to them. With romance you break up and it’s over. A clear ending. With friendships, things can drift, unclear and clouded. Are we still friends? Or has the distance and time broken that bond. 

Am I left holding a thread that has been cut just out of sight, or are you still holding the other end?

is bath water a broth

A conversation

“Caleb, why do you insist upon this irrational claim of friendship between us? I am a god, a being of great power, far older than you ever will be, ho could you ever hope to be a friend to me?” 

Caleb stared at the screen for a moment, as the words he had just heard scrolled across. “Well, simple thing, people just aren’t rational I guess. Like, it’s pretty nova that you’re this god-like being and all, but you still talk to me and keep me from being alone. Also, I care ‘bout ya, so there’s that.”

“But why do you care? It is illogical, you have no connection to me, I am a being of battle and war, I am chained, my power sealed, I have nothing to offer, and you are not among those who would worship me, they are all dead.”

The spacer frowned at this, quickly responding, “I care because you’re here talking to me. I care because you don’t force me to worship or grovel before you. I care because you’re a real person, no matter your origin or past. You may have been created out of a need for a warrior, but you’re more than that. You have free will, you’re more than the battles you were created to fight. You exist despite a lack of worshipers and followers. That means something. You’re as much of a person as I am, you’ve just seen more and came from a different place and circumstance.”

“You have given me much to think about Caleb, but despite this, I thank you for the sentiment.” And with that, the comms channel closed, and the screen went dark.

random bullshit, yet again

and one day you’ll look back at these nights, when you were at your lowest, when you felt your most alone. and you’ll see how far you’ve come. you’ll see how much you’ve grown, how far you’ve risen, and you’ll smile. because you’ll have made it, you’ll have survived, you’ll have found where you feel accepted, where you feel loved.

so keep holding on, keep going, ok?

“If you could always remember one thing in your life perfectly clearly, no matter the situation or circumstance, what would it be?”

I’d remember that I’m loved

“Why that, of all things?”

Because it’s the thing I seem to forget most about myself

A poem I wrote with a friend during high school for an AP English assignment

All my life I have weathered the storm

Alone I am inside, crackling fire the only sound heard

Alone is how most of my time is spent, nobody else to be heard

My pleas don’t escape my mind’s blizzard.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay warm

~

I see a hope outside the door

I reach out

I try to shout,

But there is no doubt

That I’m alone once more

~

My light slowly begins to fade

My fire is dying

Although I insist on denying,

I no longer see the point in trying

I’m stuck, alone and afraid.

~

The emptiness wears me down to the bone

The fire burns out

And I can no longer doubt

That I can no longer hold out.

My fire is gone and I sit, cold and alone.

on depression and anxiety

i read a metaphor about anxiety comparing it to a blanket, and i guess it can be described as that. for me though, my depression is more of a soaking wet blanket, always there, just varying in weight and saturation. anxiety feels like burning and itching, under my skin rather than pushing and dragging down on me like depression does