Stardirt

Pyroxysm
2002-07-10 18:58:10 (UTC)

Friend through Fate

Im not religious. I'm spiritual. I do believe that
the "dormant" sixty percent of our brain can infact hold
active psychic abilities in all of us. How active, depends
on the person. That is not the point however. Soul mates
in two forms must exist; friends and lovers. Perhaps the
definition of a soul mate is merely, two psychic minds that
mesh perfectly. The fine line between a friend soul mate
and lover soul mate is unclear to me. I will, however,
simply go on believing it is the physical world and its
circumstances that determine which, a pair may fall under.

Then there is love. Unconditional love, expected love, and
destined love. Unconditional is tossed around far too
lightly in my opinion. Unconditional love, is to carry on
loving and supporting your promises no matter what the
individual has done; to you, your family, the world,
him/herself, etc. Unconditional love to me is a close to
impossible promise. Expected love is far easier, and
whether its true love is debateable. Family is a main
source of expected love. Society has trained us to love our
families, and as the courts and lawyers can vouch for, it
is easily broken. Finally, destined love is what has
plagued my mind and soul for three years, and now that I
have felt it, the rest of my life. Destined love is not
debateble, it is not a choice.

Destined love has entwined my soul with his; poisoned mine
with his. I didn't choose, nor did I ever expect to love
such a guy, (whom will be called craig). I met this puzzle
of a boy in the eighth grade. I was new, and he was old.
Every day I gazed at him from across the art table,
making "funny" remarks about my paintings, hoping to lure
him into being my boyfriend. I found him adorable! Nobody
else did, thats for sure. Craig wasn't the popular type,
and neither was I. We both had our own minds; our own
ideas.

Eventually, I managed into luring him in as a friend. He
knew I had a "thing" for him, but as he told his best
friend at the time, I was a "cool chick", so I supposed he
didnt mind. This friend of his will be called Chris.
Chris is now my other best friend, and whether he too can
be a soul-mate, I'm not sure. Over chat, Craig and I
spilled our thoughts, feelings, troubles, joys for hours on
end. At school though, we would hardly exchange hello's.
I was tentative, and unsure as to how much of a bother I
was to him. Apparantly, I wasnt at all. The beginning of
grade nine I received and email from him asking me to hang
out with him at school; not to be shy of his friends
because they respected me as his friend. The more I began
to do so, the closer we became. That's when I was trapped
into loving him. His first girlfriend, (whom I set him up
with, as I would be responsible for for the rest of his
future girlfriends) moved away. The impact it had on Craig
was drastic. He blamed me for his problems, shamed me for
my efforts of consoling him, and took me for granted. There
I was, a knife in my heart and there was no way I could
give it back. The leash he had me on, kept me by his side.
I bit and barked of my hurt and finally, he apologized. He
became the best friend again. Things were never the same
though. He got cool in ninth grade, as did I, but they
were different cools. He was wanted and followed by all due
to his now good looks and image, where as I was different
and there for created a sense of respect and curiosity.
Craig became so accustomed to commanding his sheep around,
he felt he could do so with me.

Why didn't I break away? Destined love had me tied to him,
as did my promise of unconditional love. The loyalty I
promised him is somethign I can never break. My world of
ethics, beliefs, standards, would come crashing around me
if I were to do so. So I let him take my efforts of being a
best friend, and slowly, the return I recieved lessened and
lessened. I told him I loved him and I never heard the
same back. I recieved notes periodically claiming he
needed me, wanted me, and couldn't stand to be without me.
I recieved notes claiming he felt an unexplainable bond
between us. How strong that bond was to him I'm still not
sure.

Girlfriends came and left. My importance to him came and
left, yet I never failed to be there for him. Even in our
most heated arguments, when I wouldnt speak to him for
weeks on end, hoping he would come back to me. (Which he
never did, I always went back to him). By the middle of
tenth grade, I still hadn't met his parents personally,
(his dad was a teacher at the school though), and I hadnt
been to his house. We had hung out outside of school in
groups, due to my organization but he had never invited me
to do something otherwise. I felt unwanted, uneeded,
unappreciated. Every time I expressed these feelings, he
got angry and told me to stop whining.

I'm not sure if he was angry, worries, sad or scared.
Since the middle of grade nine, my parents, Craig, and
bullying I recieved from intimidated classmates, had sent
me into a downward spiral of severe depression. I was
cutting and burning myself. I overdosed with 40 extra
strenght tylenol and failed to die. I became bulimic for
about six months as well. By the beginninng of tenth
grade, I was drinking heavily, doing pot almost every day,
getting with many guys, and experimenting with acid. He
never said a word to anyone, although Chris insisted I get
help (a process I am still going through, now, in the
summer before eleventh grade). I am, fourteen years of
age, and more ruined then several of the twelfth graders.
The intelligence that had let me skip grade seven had
vanished along with my innocent logic. Craig claimed he was
just being over protective of me, since I was infact once
an incredibly innocent child, and he was the adventurous
naughty one. Perhaps I wore him down, I dont know. But
now, our friendship had turned into a one way road. I was
giving, and recieving close to nothing except the temporary
joy my reckless activities provided.

The end of tenth grade came, about three weeks ago. I had
been to his house finally, once, only because I made him
invite me. During one of our late night telephone calls
Craig accused me of being responsible for all of our
problems. It was "all your [my] fault!" he made sure I
understood. AFter a few days, he suggested we "tone our
friendship down" because "ever since you [I] started
telling me you loved me, and I was your best friend, things
have been getting worse". (AS though he had never told me
I too was his best friend). That was it, about five
months of therapy hadn't helped me get over this guy, so I
said, "fine, lets not be friends." Of which he answered
to with, "you are just upset because you want me to come
back to you for once, and you know I never will". My final
words were, "Whatever, I'm the best friend you'll ever
have". With that, I started our three and a half week
silence.

Two days ago, I recieved a message from him. He blabbered
about his life, and I replied politely, yet shortly.
Finally, I asked, "why are you telling me all of this?".
Out came the truth, "I want to be friends again. You are
the only one I can talk to. I want to fix things, that's
if, if you'll let me. " Finally, I was in control. He had
come back to me, and I told him what I had been rehearsing
for weeks, in the case that perhaps this opportunity would
arise. " I wont settle for anythign less than you feeling
for me the same as I feel for you. If that isn't possible
for you, then neither is our friendship. If you can manage
such a request, then you'll have to earn and work for my
friendship yet again." And he said, "dont say anythign
yet, just let me earn it. Let me work for you. I promise I
wont fail you again. i'll phone you sometime this week."

So I'll see. It's been two days and I've had no phone
call. But we'll see.


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