I’m OK With That

I am not friendless, and for this I’m grateful. As, I know what it is like to be sans friends (been there). But, no one calls me their best friend. They tell me about their best friends and I see updates and statuses about them being with their “besties”.

Not being anyone’s best friend was bothering me until I realised, I’m ok without that extra responsibility. I’m not the friend that is unlivewithoutable (it’s a word now). I can disappear, I can withdraw when needed, and none of my friends will be too put out about it; they’ll just get on with whatever. I’m not necessary. And, really… with my health (both mental and physical) as it is, this is a good thing.

I’m nobody’s bestie. And, you know what? I’m ok with that.

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Friends

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Not the sitcom, of which I was never a big fan. Don’t get me wrong, there were times that I caught it and was mildly amused. There were even times that, being forced to watch it, I had a good laugh (Smelly Cat comes to mind) but, overall, it was never going to be one of my fave shows. But, I digress.

Friends. This is a tough one for me because of the few times in my life I felt like I had found that lifelong friend, only to end up deserted.

Now, to put this into perspective, I’m talking about someone local, someone I can see and hug and hang out with. I do have (have managed to maintain) at least one dear close friendship (someone who knows EVERYTHING about me and still loves me and wants to be my friend), but this is a long distance thing. To find (and keep) a friend to trust, who lives close enough to visit regularly and do stuff with, this is another story.

Of recent times, it was a young woman with whom I shared the passion for making music. There were other things in common (like an off the wall sense of humour and an absolute obsession for all things Tolkien). And, whenever she needed someone to talk to, I made myself available. I became very attached.

My friend and I performed musically together. For me, strengthening the bond. And, at least once a week we got together for a walk in the park or a chat and cuppa.

But, when I became more open, more myself, sharing more of how I was really feeling about the mental illness and sharing my real opinions on life in general, she went away. I could’ve kept her as my friend had I not been myself…but.

I miss her. But, I wish her well. Sometimes, I still post something funny (that reminds me of some private joke we had) on her Facebook wall, not to get her to come back into my life, but just to acknowledge and give thanks for those good times. No longer will I beg for friendship, crying, “Why’d you leave me?”

But, this sort of thing makes a person cautious, scared of friendship in general. Especially to a person who gives their all in a relationship.

Maintaining a certain level of detachment, while sharing your soul with someone you feel a connection to, is difficult. I fall for my friends. I fall hard.

So, lately, it’s been odd when friendship – not just one, but PLURAL – has arrived at my (literal front) door (one under very unusual circumstances) and I feel that falling feeling again.

Of the most unorthodox of the meetings (actually, because of the unorthodox nature of our meeting), we have found someone we can trust to talk about EVERYTHING with. No need to hide aspects. And, amazingly, she lives a few streets over from me.

So, here I am, finding myself with a friend (more than one even) again, and even a social life! This is odd. For me.

And, it’s very scary, too. Lovely. But scary because of its loveliness, its preciousness.

I think I will always miss that musical friend, even though I know she has very much moved on, but, I have to admit, being able to truly be oneself with someone is more important than making music together. Because the friendship where you can be yourself is where real harmony is found. And, if that’s the only music I get from this, I will take it and be grateful.

So, here I go…I think this is lifelong friendship here. But, I’ve thought that before. I just don’t want to mess it up by being me…but, apparently, I can’t help being me. Sigh.

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Write It Down

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Meet my new songwriting pen. Well, how could I resist?

Pens are important. For writing things down. Like, of course, song lyrics and chord progressions…and really good days.

Blogs are good for that, too. Well, for recording really good days, anyway. It’s important to document the good ones. Because, life is too long not to (that isn’t a typo, in case you wondered).

Today I got my hair done (it was a mess, I needed it). It looks better now and, thus, I feel better now.

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And, the salon I went to didn’t ask me where I was from or where I was going on holiday this year. Excellent.

I got a new songwriting pen (as you saw above). Honestly, I am so easy to please.

I had fun with The Reason I Breathe. Aren’t we cute?

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And, we had a lovely afternoon and evening with friends, just chilling, eating, watching a film (The Hobbit), and playing (Guitar Hero, which, I have discovered, I suck at. I don’t feel bad about this; I hear that all real musicians suck at it). I don’t have a visual of said fun because I was too busy having said fun.

Good day. A day that was more smile than struggle. So beautiful. So rare. So worth the recording thereof.

I hope you had a good day.

Goodnight.