a friend well trusted

You know how sometimes it feels like some things just can’t seem to go right? That is how parts of my life feel right now. Perhaps it’s just a case of sadness or maybe I’m just a little crazy, but I honestly can not remember the last time I was undeniably in a total and complete state of happiness. Each week begins with a hopeful look out onto the horizon expecting only the best. I look forward to the weekend, events placed throughout the week, and small moments of contentment and achievement. Yet, each Sunday ends with the same feeling of disappointment and wishful thoughts of what could have been. Why is that, do I set my expectations too high? Is that my problem? Or do I allow the lowering of my expectations to upset me in too many ways.

This leads me to the belief that maybe we create our own happiness. But who honestly believes that? Our lives cannot be dictated by ourselves alone—we are human and will always be affected by situations and actions out of our control. However, our choice is how we handle what is thrown our way. But can I always be cheery? Is it possible to tip toe my way through life without painful confrontations. Do I even want to have a confrontation? Lord knows I can avoid them like the plague. Still, I can’t help but wonder if they would do me some good. I hear that building up emotions inside of oneself is an extremely dangerous task. Not that I am afraid of doing anything silly, but I am afraid of graduating with so many unresolved issues raging in my heart.

One problem is my friend. I have trusted him for years. When no one else understood me it seemed as if he somehow always could. He moved away a few years ago. But we still talk. With this once trusted friend I told more than I tell my own mother. Maybe I did because there was such a distance between us, it was like writing in a diary, but this time I could actually get more back than my own sloppy hand writing. Sadly, the contact has faded, and if we do speak it is superficial and generally ends in saying I need to go to bed, but I honestly don’t for at least another hour.

You know how sometimes there is one moment that really just rips at you heart. It’s not as though you planned for it to happen. It is just one off handed comment that really eats at you. I had one of those tonight. My friend and I were talking about re-giving gifts. I found out he gave away one of mine that I had given him a few years back. I was little upset, but I could have easily gotten over it until he said that he had forgotten how picky I use to be and how I became upset if they didn’t fit my plans. I could feel the sting as strongly as if I had been slapped across the face. With the dreaded swell of water forming around my dry contacts I made the attempt to recreate my now wobbling voice. He did not realize how his words hurt; I didn’t even realize how much they would hurt. How could I have been so affected?

This is when I started to think about how I use to be. I was picky. I loved planning certain details of my life and hoping with all my heart they would unfold into the perfect stories. This hints back to my great expectations. And when each plan failed I was disappointed. But I thought I had changed. I mean I really have changed so much since 9th grade when he moved away. My faith is stronger, my friends different, my attitude isn’t the young smile at every moment anymore. This is when I realized he wouldn’t know how I had changed. So he couldn’t have known that this reminder was such a painful one.

Maybe it was so painful because in the end, if I really and truly looked into my heart, my great expectations, my romantic curse to have beautiful moments is still there causing me disappointment.