Can’t sleep.
Wondering too much about my parents. About my friends. About my husband-to-be. I wonder if I’m right for him. I hope I’m right for him, because he’s done so much for me that I don’t even think he could possibly begin to understand. He is my rock, my safe haven, my shelter, my source of energy. He means more to me than he could ever know, because I will never figure out any way to tell him properly. And so many days, I wonder if there is something better for him…
He deserves brilliance and tenderness, sensitivity and caring. He needs someone more considerate of his needs than I end up being much of the time. He needs a strong support, because he’s too often held the load alone.
So am I this person? I have a hard time believing that I might be. I’m flaky and terrible, shallow and dull. I might have sparks or moments of being interesting, but then I fade away like the cheap firecracker you buy from the shady guy on Second Street. I am weakness and indulgence, indolence and apathy when I used to be brimming with ambition, passion, and strength.
Yet he still fell for me, even though I was at my lowest, as opposed to one who fell for me while I was at my best. I see my best as someone who is ambitious and forward, confident, inspiring, talented, creative, and motivated. I see the best version of me as being one of energy and drive, with an eagerness to fulfill her dreams. This version of me wants to live life to its fullest, climb trees and scale mountains, topple establishments and dream dreams, big and small, and maybe aspire to pursue some of them one day.
So what am I now?
When I went home for my sister’s graduation last month, at some point my father and I had a conversation about a rather poignant topic. I was talking about some high school friends and what they were up to, and so forth. And then he asked me,
“What do your friends think of you?”
I paused. I don’t really remember what I said, but I think I rambled off something to the effect of ‘they’re really happy for me that I’ve found someone who makes me really happy.’ The fact that I don’t remember exactly is probably a sign that I was bullshitting a little bit.
The truth is, I don’t know what my friends think of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked with any of them. Not only that, the last time they talked to me was highly dependent on the last time I got in touch with them, which for the most part was not anytime recently at all. Sadly, the correspondence that takes place between my friends and me usually stops on my side, not for any sort of intent to create animosity, but worse. It’s out of my awful habit of procrastinating. And you know, once you start procrastinating, it’s easier to forget. And pretty soon, you forget you were supposed to write so and so a letter, or give such and such a call, or return someone’s email.
This continues for some time, and eventually people give up. It’s like credit: no credit is better than bad credit, and in the friendship department, I have pretty awful credit.
And eventually, people grow up. They grow up and realize that I’m a bitch who doesn’t return phone calls or Ims or emails or even letters, and they have enough interesting/cool people in their lives that they realize they don’t have to bother with me. Or, maybe they do, but they’re certainly less excited to talk to me than at the get go. They realize I’m kinda boring, and really flaky, so they kind of.. melt away…
So my Friendster says that I’m connected to 286150 people through 93 friends. So maybe I’m well loved, right? =P some of those people don’t really know me personally. They only know me through activities they’ve done with me. So that cuts the number probably in half. And of the ones I do consider my friends, or at least considered friends in the past, only a few have left testimonials. And of those testimonials, very few are actually more than just “oh she’s so energetic and hyper!” and you know, energetic and hyper is fine, yes. But I have some weird idea that I’m a little more than that…
At any rate, testimonials don’t really mean very much. Most of it is made up, thrown together, and people don’t have time to do them anyway. I personally have yet to write testimonials for most of my friends, so I have no reason to say anything. But I wonder if in the past couple of years, I’ve revealed my inner awfulness to people, now that the polish of my UCLA social education has worn off a bit in my recent months of frustration. The closest friends of mine (mostly my high school friends, whose opinion i’ve always held in high respect) who once called me smart and kind and supported me when i was going through a lot of awful things in my life don’t really say things like that any more, as if in silent rebuke for the person I’ve become in the recent time that’s passed.
I’ve sent people the message that I want to be left to my own devices, and now they do it. But…
There is no but. It’s my own fault I lost these people. It’s not that hard to keep in touch – a Christmas card here, an email, a phone call, even an IM response. =P
I’m a terrible person. I think that’s what people think of me nowadays. And maybe they’re right.
Time for me to go to bed.
