Random PenSword Fact #2: I hate words like continuity or any word where the first syllable in it sounds like “cunt”.
There’s something that’s been on my mind lately. Rephrasing, there’s a lot that’s been on my mind these days that revolve around my relationships with people. I’ve felt disconnected from everyone for the longest time now, even with people whom I’ve considered my closest good friends.
It doesn’t help that I’m not in Charlotte where my friends are all gathered in one spot. But there’s also this huge gap between myself and everyone here in Appalachian Sate. People claim to be social butterflies, but thats just bullshit. They’re not trying to connect with others even if they do have similar interests, a great stash of drugs, or a decent sized cock or divine pussy. Whatever passes for a “social connection” quickly disconnects in mere seconds. And then people just put on these appearances, “social masks”.
People sport these masks and instantly master the art of putting on fake smiles and executing fake laughs all while maintaining some fake peace with their fake friendships.
Fake, fake, fake….I hate that shit. It makes me sick to my stomach. I know I have problems with dealing with the reality of what’s going on in my life sometimes, but at least I don’t try to string people along and keep them guessing. I present myself as real as possible, flaws and all. But nope, no one wants to deal with what’s real. They just want to stick to a superficial existence all while spouting some Jack Kerouac “On the Road” type of bullshit about living in the moment and point out everything that I am is wrong.
How I act. How I think. How I speak. How I choose to spend my time. How I choose to be happy.
And do I say anything about their own poor life choices or ways to self-medicate and ultimately self-destruct? No, I let that stuff play itself out. Watch karma build up over their heads like storm clouds. Then bide my sweet time and wait for everything to come back to bite them in the ass. Do I get off on their pain and misery and point and laugh? Yes. Yes, I do. No sense in denying it.
But what’s even worse in my eyes….is when I make an attempt to look past differences between myself and another person, I try to be their friend, I actually do become friends with them. I allow them into my world. I let myself trust them. I share things with these people. But does the friendship endure? No. Either that person does the old “fade away” routine or I “delete” that person from my life entirely. I quite literally delete from my life if the only relationship only goes as far as social media.
A lot of people have “faded away” in my life. They’ve become ghosts in my memory. When people choose to “fade away” they’re always leaving me to my own thoughts. Inevitably I get lost in these thoughts and keep torturing myself while wondering, “What did I do wrong?” “Did I say something to upset him/her?” “Why is it I never seem to be good enough for anyone?” It’s the same thing whenever I try to start up a conversation with someone on social media and people don’t respond back to anything I say. At first I thought it was just irritating. But now it seems to be fueling that negative way of thinking that I’m not enough. When I think that I’m not enough then eventually I go back to that old way of thinking that I don’t deserve to be happy, loved, trusted, or even have a little bit of peace in my life.
I used to be a lot more social. I didn’t always expect the worse in people. I didn’t always see the bad in everything. I used to tell a lot of jokes or say the first thing that’s on my mind without a second thought. But then I became this jaded, cynical person whose twisted on the insides because of deep seated malice and all sorts of neuroses. And of course there’s the bane of my existence, my “Nightmare Syndrome” that’s just the cherry on top of everything.
At first I thought that this whole change in my perception of people was because of how my Dad lied to my Mom and had his affair. Then the move to Boone when my best friend suddenly thought he couldn’t be bothered to be associated with someone like me. But no, I think it goes back even further than all of that.
A long time ago I made friends with this other writer on-lline. We kept in contact with instant messenger. We bonded over anime, video games, Japanese culture, and the like. All through high school I felt like he was my one and only true friend. He was the first person that I ever came out to. He was gay too. We had all sorts of ideas for stories and would constantly brainstorm together and work together. Rather, he’d do all the writing for this projects and I would help him brainstorm for it while struggling with my own stuff even with his help.
There was a point where that friend was going through something. He had been struggling with depression and finding his own place in the world. I picked up on his mood and noticed something wasn’t right. But he wouldn’t tell me anything. Weeks passed, maybe more than a month when we didn’t speak to each other anymore. When we did finally catch up with another I found out that he had ran away from home and there was all this other stuff that had happened that he wouldn’t tell me about. I remember feeling hurt and betrayed at the time. I thought he didn’t trust me enough to share this stuff with me. I would’ve listened to him. I would’ve put in some effort to try to help him. Then our daily chats became fewer and fewer until it reached a point of nonexistence.
Then I ultimately gave up and “deleted” him from my life. I figured that it was time to stop relying on him, start becoming my own person, deal with flesh-and-blood human beings for a change. Did that work? Sometimes it did…
Over the years after that we did get back in touch again. I remember there was this one time where I said something to hurt him and I passed it off as a joke. But in reality, I said it because I wanted to hurt him. We were cut off from each other for another number of years and then eventually found each other again. Every time we’d reconnect, we’d up disconnecting again. I’d say something and he would leave me hanging. This became a regular thing between us and I was done with it. It just became this cycle that’d kept repeating on a loop.
Connect, disconnect, reconnect, disconnect. Lather, rinse, repeat…
I had gotten sick of it. So I thought it’d be best to sever our ties with one another completely.
This friend of mine is from Orlando. When news about the shooting at the Pulse Club broke out he immediately came to mind. Suddenly I needed to know if he was one of the victims or not. I found him through Facebook, confirmed to be alive and well. I read through his timeline and found out that he left Orlando a month before the shooting took place.
I could’ve friended him and chatted him up right then and there. But I chose not to. I was relieved to know that he was okay and then I chose to move on.
I haven’t thought about him in the longest time. But tying in with everything that I’ve brought up earlier I think this was the relationship that started up everything for me.
I walked away the first time because in my stupid, younger mindset that I had back then it seemed justified. I felt hurt, betrayed, and in no way whatsoever did I believe that I was overreacting or overanalyzing anything. That was 12 years ago. After that I struggled on my own with school, finding my own place in the world, figuring out who I really am, my own crippling depression, and wanting to kill myself.
There isn’t a doubt in my mind. This is what started everything with me. All the “fade aways”, the need to “delete” people from my life, all because of some stupid petty bullshit from when I was young. Like some little seed planted inside of me. But I’m the one that made that seed grow with my own thoughts and feelings. My old friend didn’t do that to me. This entire time it’s all been on me.
I knew I overreacted back then. I knew it was childish of me to hold anything against him. And there isn’t anything I can do to change that.
I’m getting really emotional right now. I need to just stop here.