Great Expectations
I have said this before: I have no friends. I have no problem saying this. At one point I couldn’t say that. It was too hard but not anymore. The people that I once considered my friends have been cut off. I don’t want to deal with their drama. I have other things going on and pretending to have something in common was getting old.
But that is not the only reason I cut them off. I cut them off because they didn’t live up to my expectations. What I mean by that is: I tend to jump into things with both feet. As a friend I will be there for the good and the bad. I listen and I hear. I am all about going out partying or staying home and holding your hand as you cry. And people were all good with that. I was when I needed them to be there that they disappeared. I had friends that had no problem drinking with me, partying with me, laughing with me but they were not there to cry with me. When things got hard I couldn’t find them. My heartache was not a priority. And to me that isn’t fair. When I was younger this realization shocked me but as I get older I find that fewer and fewer people are living up to my expectations.
There are fewer and fewer people that are willing to be there when you need them to be. And I am OK with that. Sure, it would be nice to have people to confide in, people that take a genuine interest in my life and want to see things get better but I expected this from the wrong people. The people that I expected to be there for me aren’t there. They are off at another party because that is where they want to be. They are not sitting with me holding my hand because they have chosen to do something else more fun. They cannot handle the darkness that is following me so they have decided to ignore it and let me deal with it on my own.
And I can accept that
And move on without them.