A gaggle of months later, I started pathetically hoping for an imaginary relationship with someone I felt really close to to someday be real.
And then I made the mistake of taking the chance of opening myself up to another human being. Since, I've kind of come to the conclusion that pretty much any time you do this, no matter how much you tell yourself that "this time will be different because he/she is a good person and blah blah blah," you are basically begging for someone to absolutely fucking destroy you.
But I really thought that this time wouldn't be a total disaster and that there might actually be another person in the world who wants to love and be loved instead of use and be loved. And that's why I'm whining into a Blogger box instead of talking to my best friend, who is too embarrassed to admit that he supposedly loves me for even one second of his life, so can't be there for me when everything is going to hell. Never mind that I've dedicated about 3 years of my life to trying to make him happy, that I've supported him in any endeavor he's ever considered, and that I've done nothing but give him loyalty and affection, meanwhile enduring passive aggressive, insulting comments for months from someone who didn't/doesn't even know me while he stood by, not saying a word. It, of course, was never enough.
Maybe I've just somehow become a total asshole in the past handful of years, but I don't see how you're supposed to not feel jaded about love and friendship and caring and affection when every time you try to give it, you get criticism and isolation in return.
A coworker, and someone who I really had a lot in common with, who I trusted and adored and looked at as a dear friend who I hoped to grow closer with over the years to come, killed himself this weekend. He was cultured, had a loving family, a loving boyfriend, and a beautiful home with an amazing garden. He had a job and coworkers who enjoyed his company. He lied to his parents about being in college and killed himself on the day of his supposed graduation instead of coming clean. My opinion of the coworker/friend that I knew hasn't changed but it's hard not to have a lot of mixed feelings about his final decision.
Knowing that he left behind a sister has really been the icing on the emotional wreck of a cake. This is the situation I've been in for the past 8 years of my life - the sister of a deceased brother. While my situation is not exactly the same as hers, I feel a lot of sympathy and understand that, unless she has far better friends than I've ever had, it's a really lonely path she has ahead. People tend to judge you a lot for the things that your family members do. And she'll never have a way to redeem the years ahead of her that could've been filled with sibling arguments, advice-giving, and comforting each other. It's just something that can't be replaced.
Work has very much been a struggle since the incident occurred, and everyone is a little tense. It's difficult to be in an industry (customer service) where essentially there is no "behind closed doors". A tragedy has occurred in our midst and we're all in a position of grieving and attempting to understand (together and individually), while at the same time trying to put on a face of normal, everyday functionality.
This week would've been the week when, personally, I really could've benefitted from having a best friend who could take a little bit of time to at least try to listen and understand what I'm feeling, for myself, for my coworkers, and for the aforementioned sister and family.
So I guess I feel confused that instead of crying and feeling safe and trying to heal, I'm sitting in front of the computer at 2 a.m. typing out a sad story that nobody will probably ever read, childishly venting about a relationship that, for all intents and purposes, isn't even real, and that I'm being made to feel like I'm a needy bitch for asking for somebody who I've given unconditional love to for years to take one day....to change his plans or for once put me first or pretend that I'm not some horrible, embarrassing, untouchable person for a few hours...and just be there. Just once.
But I'm probably just too sensitive and selfish and nobody else in their right mind could ever possibly be hurt by this. I think, however, more than anything, I'm just worn out, sad, frustrated, and sick of being just another "take it or leave it" thing.