As I sat in the ER waiting room with my sister two nights ago, waiting to hear about my mom, I realized how much I have lost in this life. Time. Something we take for granted. My sister spoke to me about Time in her life. She has none. Working 12 hour shifts almost 60 hours a week, she doesn’t have time to be a regular 25 year-old. She is bouncing between guys, hoping that one would stick and eventually marry her. I hate to be the bearer or bad news for her, but it seems she is going down my path. Maybe not the bipolar path, but the path in the realization that no man will ever complete her.
I have been chasing ghosts for years now. Ghosts of men online, ghosts of men I have dated, and even spirits of friends that have moved on. I took a picture of myself the other day, and even though I hate selfies, this one came out pretty good. You know what the funny thing was? I had nowhere to share it. During one of my hateful bipolar meltdowns, I had alienated myself from my friends on Facebook. These people I had known for quite some time. I don’t have SnapChat and I only use Twitter for tuning in to Star Trek. Then I realized how alone I really was. Maybe I was meant to be this way?
I had to walk away from my dear bipolar friend from the UK because what I was doing to him was borderline abusive. When I am in a vulnerable state, and I am desperate for help and when the people I rely on just aren’t there for me, I tend to lash out, get very angry and say things I don’t mean. I guess everyone is entitled to outbursts, but mine are just uncalled for, and they are very selfish. I needed to walk away because he deserves so much better and I need to figure out what I really want out of this life when it comes to friendships.
My angry outbursts hurt people, and when I moved on from Facebook, I realized that. Now I need to move on again. I will say that I am tired of being ghosted too. So many people I make connections with, just get up and vanish into thin air, and I am really tired of it. It seems people crave solid connections but aren’t willing to put the effort into it. I have been guilty of this too I suppose, so I really shouldn’t be complaining. I wish I could find a few friends that would stay, despite all my faults and misgivings. I even hope to find a guy I could write with and have great sex with. A passionate, smart guy with the love of the arts. It seems almost impossible to find a guy like that though.
But time. It is clicking away. My sister doesn’t have any. I have too much. The world will keep spinning and I will get another year older. I am really going to miss my friend, but I think walking away from him is the best thing. You can’t rely on someone who won’t be there and I am too selfish to understand that he has lows and needs space sometimes. If I have no one, then I can die in peace and go away so I won’t be a burden to anyone.
I guess it’s really time I moved on.