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Friends…How Many of Us Have Them?

I should be asleep right now since I have to be up in less than 6 hours, but I wanted to share this post before I decided to go to bed.
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“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

Simple, right? Straight to the point. Clear and concise.

What if all friendships that were destined to fail ended as amicably and simply as that? I think there would be a lot less drama in the world. Today, I realized something important. Some would call it an epiphany. I think I just finally admitted something to myself. I’ve decided to stop lying to myself about something that has affected me more in the last few months than ever before.

Here goes nothing. I’m not good at having friends. There, I said it. Actually, I’m quite terrible at it. My entire life, I’ve depended on my siblings (who are awesome) to be my friends, not realizing that my relationships with people outside of my family are just as important.

I’m a graduate of college, I attended schools for about 16 years, and I can’t really say I have many friends or even a core group of friends to show for it. I try not to think about it often, but being myself in my new apartment gives me plenty of time to let my million miles-per-minute-mind wander.

Who do I blame for my broken friendships? Who CAN I blame for them? I’m the only constant in them all.

I blame myself. My insecurity, my issues with self, my trust issues, and the overall lack of faith in people has affected me in ways I didn’t notice until now.

Where do I go from here? Do I attempt to repair current relationships? Reopen old wounds a.k.a. friends that have never completely healed? Or do I continue on with life, armed with this new knowledge about myself and carrying what I know into future friendships and relationships?

I have no idea. Not one. What I do know is that there is a problem, rooted in me, and I need to fix it (or better yet, give it to God to handle).

My big brother tell me that I shouldn’t be worried. His theory is that I’ve been focused on what I’m supposed/expected to do and what I need to do to be successful that I didn’t bother making useless friends. [He would also disapprove of this blog post]

Here’s what I think of that theory. My brother is trying to protect me from myself. He’s trying to make me feel better about my utter lack of unrelated meaningful people. In order for me to fix myself, I must figure out the “whys” about who I’ve become. I don’t blame my siblings, but being the youngest, I think I’ve subconsciously absorbed their experiences, thoughts, and beliefs as my own about life.

Who needs to actually experience teenage rebellion and feelings when you have lived them vicariously 3x over?

Where’s the big tada? I’ve never confronted myself before now about my friendships statuses.

I’m not a kid anymore. Something told me it was time to ask myself a simple question.

Friends…how many of us have them?

-Misfit.

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