Insecurity has become my security blanket. Warm and comforting, I never let myself feel like I have more to offer people, and most importantly myself. I've always been focused on how I fail people. Finally after eighteen years of the same routines and familiarity, I've made a choice. The decision came to me a few days ago when I argued (fought) with my former best friend.
Let us call her A shall we?
It's the most generic anyway. Here's some background info on our past: "best friends" for almost thirteen years, fought a couple times when we were kids, been in relationships that I would frequently be tortured to hear about for the past six, oh and when we met for the first time in kindergarten, she automatically hated me on sight and didn't become "friends" until the first grade. That should've been the biggest sign. I was her sounding board for everything and she never reciprocated.
She called me immature among other things, but that wasn't the most hurtful. Admittedly I did say something immature at the beginning. I told her that her husband was ugly. I tried to pass it off with a joke, but that's when the fireworks started. Seriously sometimes I think my mouth is bigger than my already large forehead. She went off on a rampage and then said the second most horrible thing anyone's ever said to me: "Just because you let some man put his hands on you doesn't mean you know anything about relationships."
After that, I shut down and couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I almost dropped the phone because my hands were trembling and still are even today. My mouth was still gaping and I couldn't stop her from hearing the blubber in my voice. Immediately I asked her why she would say something like that and of course her short term memory only came in handy when she was dealing with her on and off again abusive husband, the Fucker. A began to tell me that I should stop being so emotional and she had the nerve to lecture me about posting her "private business" on Facebook.
The thing is I knew A for almost thirteen years and she couldn't keep her business private. At all. For the past three years, I've read statuses about the Fucker (her husband) and literally listened to conversations revolving around him all night. They "met" when she was dating his cousin and subsequently dumped him for the Fucker. She neglected to tell me that they hadn't really met until she moved to Nebraska for him last year. It wasn't until last April that she told me that he abusive towards her.
For a while now
After I deleted the fucking comment, I tried being polite and made her think I was over it. After five minutes of that bullshit, I hung up. All I could think was "I fucking hate-- no abhor her." I cried for a while and resolved to never speak to her again. I was done with her. That's not to say that I wouldn't help her if she's seriously committed to leave that toxic relationship. But then again, A and the Fucker are always breaking up. Can it be called breaking up if you're married?
I'm not gonna lie; that night I thought that I could forgive her, but then I finally realized my self-worth. Could I actually get past that? I then realized that a true best friend would never make that comment to you. I realized that I could never talk to her without resentment and anger. I realized that what she said was demeaning. I realized that I couldn't listen to Jason Derulo songs because the Fucker looked like him. I realized that my self esteem would be lower than it could already possibly be. I realized it was time for me to make a decision and this time it was mine solely. I made the choice to be selfish and think about myself for a change. So I made the choice to continue being my self's only best friend. I made the choice to not let anyone bring me down and that includes yours truly. I can't say that I regret it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to butcher Alicia Keys "Girl On Fire" and try to rap along with Nicki Minaj for once.
Until next time,
Coping With the Idea of Me