. It is a Swedish word, and it means, “a tender sadness or pensive melancholy; the calm feeling that something emotionally significant is over and never will be back.”
I feel this, amongst a number of other feelings (some easy to describe, some impossible to touch) when I think about the past. In particular, things that I have lost. People that I have lost. It is said that the people who are meant to be in your life will either remain, or will find their way back, and the people that are no longer in your life simply aren't meant to be in it any longer. I think I'd like to believe this. I'd like to believe that the people that have left my life along the way simply aren't meant to be in my life, and simply don't appreciate me as they should. Thinking this way sometimes makes things a little easier to handle, but it's just a bandaid over a wound. A silly facade. People that I used to care for and people that used to care for me are no longer in my life for a reason, and sometimes I ponder far too much over the “reasons”. I have been told I shouldn't do this, that in the end it doesn't matter. I guess it doesn't, because it doesn't bring these people back to me. It doesn't suddenly make them care about me. However, I have always been one to ponder over everything, to worry over everything, to ask the “whys” and the “how comes”.
The thing with Zhen, my ex best friend... all of it... everything that has happened... it is all still fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday. I still remember her not telling me Happy Birthday in 2010 and her ignoring my wish for her to have a Happy Birthday in November of that year... she ignored it. There was a lot of ignoring going on on her part that year, and she didn't come see me for Christmas like she always did. She didn't send me a present (not that I cared about that, really), or even a card. In January of 2011 she finally told me that she was tired of pretending to be happy for me after I had written her a heartfelt letter. She told me that she couldn't be friends with me anymore. I couldn't help but wonder how someone could throw fourteen years of friendship away like it was nothing, like that. I felt broken. In a sense, I still feel broken. I don't know if this is normal. Probably not.
And then began the nightmare of her cyber-stalking me, and bothering my friends, and doing all sorts of odd things, including hacking into my Livejournal account, my email account, and my Twitter account. It is because of her pestering that I actually reconnected with someone else whom I had walked away from in the past, and I am grateful for that, but... there are limits, you know? There was also a point in which she exposed the lies that someone else was telling about me, and that person walked out of my life, but that was fine. I was grateful to her for that as well. However, I got so tired of the stalking and that she would impersonate others and she even created an email account pretending to be my husband and emailed other people. She kept trying to either be friends with my friends, or kept trying to win them over or... I don't even know. I don't claim to understand the inner workings of her mind at that time. Perhaps she was feeling anguish and turmoil as well, and she was just dealing with it all in an odd way.
I finally threatened to call the police if she didn't stop. And then, for a while, everything was blissfully quiet. But it wasn't over, not for me. I thought about her frequently, wondered how she was doing, that sort of thing. And then I broke down and emailed her before we were sent over here. That's when she apologized to me for everything and informed that she was getting married in October of this year (I emailed her in July, I think). I was legitimately happy for her. I was glad that we weren't on these horrible terms with each other.
I guess I thought somewhere along the way that it would be like a new starting point for us, and I stupidly figured that we could be best friends again. I think, deep down inside, this is what I hoped for even though I knew that it wasn't going to happen. Talking to her... it felt like I was talking to a complete stranger. This wasn't the Zhen that I knew... not the one that was my best friend or the crazy, irrational one that had stalked me for months and months. I feel stupid for wanting things to go back to the way they were, but when everything is changing and feels like it's falling apart around you, you kind of long for the familiar. You reach out blindly for something and grasp it even though you know that you can't hold on to it.
I wished her well, but again, it was like I was talking to a stranger. She said nothing about wanting to rekindle our lost friendship. She said nothing about wanting to start over, or anything like that. And that was... well, I can't exactly say it was okay, but it was her decision I guess and I respected that.
On October 5th, I sent her an email telling her that I was happy for her and I hoped that her wedding would be as lovely as she had hoped, and that she would be happy with Wilson for the rest of her life. I have yet to hear anything back from her. I don't think I'm very surprised about this. For some reason, though, it saddens me. I know it sounds ridiculous, just as all of my thoughts of reconciliation even though I know better. I knew better than to email her in the first place, after everything. But I did it.
I remember this picture very well. I remember when we took it—right outside of the Tokio Hotel concert in Atlanta in 2008. Those were the good times between us. I remember Daddy driving her home and I sat in the backseat with her and put my head in her lap and she just stroked my hair and held my hand. That was the kind of friend she was. If I was having a bad day, she wouldn't demand me to talk about it if she were there with me. She would just hold my hand or pet my hair or put her head on my shoulder or she would hook her arm through mine and we'd go walking. And then she turned into someone I didn't know anymore, but I still remember all the good times. I remember the bad times too but I try not to think about those too much. I miss her, still. I miss our friendship.
Last year, when I had things going on with Zhen (the stalking, etc.) and then was being told by a few people that I was “too straight” or “not lesbian enough” to belong in the LGBT group, and received shit for finding nothing wrong with heterosexuality and got accused of having a “straight agenda” even though I'm not straight... I think I hit some sort of wall. I had had enough, and I blew up in a long entry about my sexuality. That entry is still here and is still very much public, because I am not at all ashamed of my sexuality or afraid to stand up for it. I needed to vent, and I did, and I felt immensely better for it. However, I made someone else very angry at me and apparently ashamed to know me. I will admit I am not proud of some of the things I said to her in our argument. I'm not proud of how childish I acted, but I do not take back anything I said in that entry, because at that time, I needed to say it, no matter how “rude” or “raging” or “bitter” it sounded. Because that is how I was feeling at the time. I was hurt and had been dealing with being pushed around by people I thought actually gave a crap about me for a while and I had had enough. I exploded. And because of that, I lost someone. That someone vowed to delete me from their life and never think of me again. She deleted every journal entry for me, every single mention of me, and for all I know, she hasn't thought of me even once since. And in its own way, that hurts too. If she hated me, at least I would know that she still thinks about me on some level. Maybe she knew that was the worst way she could hurt me. To forget about me. Well, she won.
That's the thing with Zhen. I remember so many things that I am sure she has forgotten. The funny thing is that while she was doing all this horrible stuff to me and treating me like crap and stalking me and impersonating me and hacking into my journal and stuff... at least I know that then she was still thinking of me. She was checking up on me in her own ridiculously twisted way at that time. She still cared
if you can call it that. Now... I bet she doesn't think of me at all. That last email from her It was a farewell, I bet. A sort of closure for us. Maybe I should be happy about it, but I just feel resigned and morose over the whole ordeal. Vemond
. She's not coming back. Our friendship is not coming back, and I've accepted that even though I'm very nostalgic and keep one eye on the past. That's no way to live, though, is it? But how do you move on from something like that? How do you forget it? How do you fill that hole in your heart? The girl that was my best friend isn't dead, but she's gone. I've still suffered an immense loss, and it feels even worse than death in a sense because I don't know her anymore
, and this is so utterly significant but so insanely pitiful and I realize this. I know this. I need no one to tell me how stupid I am.
I have very few people in my life that I feel close to. Very few people left, that is. Again, I would like to return to that little saying that the people who are meant to be in your life will stay and that I shouldn't be sad over the people who leave me because they aren't meant to be in my life anymore, blah, blah, blah. But again, that is just one of those things to make me temporarily feel better. Another thing I used to tell myself is that I didn't have much time for a social life, working twelve-hour night shifts, which was true, but still sounds like just an excuse, right? In reality, I almost constantly wonder if I'm just not worth anyone's time anymore. Just like nine years ago, I wake up these days wondering who is going to abandon me next. Who am I going to push away? Kim? Maia? Rinoa? Jeremy?
So I make these mad scrambles to hold onto everyone that I have left. I have extreme moments in which emotions just pour out and I am helpless to stop the flow, and there's just an outpouring of words that may be sappy and may be stupid and I think some of my friends have no idea how to react to it. Sometimes I don't even think my poor husband knows how to react to it except to hold me, and that's okay. I don't know how to react to myself sometimes.
Maybe, though, in my holding on, I'm just shoving people away all the same. I don't know.
I feel this need to reconnect with people. To tell them that I'm sorry for whatever stupid thing I have said or done in the past to cause our friendship to dissolve. But that is also pretty dumb, right? I mean, if we have nothing in common anymore, of course they aren't going to have any reason to talk to me. Maybe I've burned all my bridges simply by being me, and well, doesn't that suck?
Maybe you think I should be happy with what I have. And you know, I honestly am happy with those who are in my life. I do have friends who genuinely care about me for whatever unknown reason, and I have a wonderful husband who cuddles me and lays awake in bed with me talking about everything and nothing. He loves me unconditionally, and I know that. I cannot even begin to put into words how very lucky I am, and if I could see myself like he sees me, I think I would be much happier with me
I'm selfish and I'm greedy, and I don't need anyone to tell me this, either. I don't seem to want to let people go, even when I should, and I seem to want them back in my life, even when I shouldn't.
I have a relatively new friend who is sweet and bubbly and funny. She's Asian and she's pretty and we have quite a few things in common. I don't want to get terribly close to her because she's being stationed in Korea in a few months, and I know that if I get close to her, I won't tolerate her departure very well. At the same time, I kind of want to cling to her and ask her not to go (which is dumb) because she is (almost) my only friend here.
I think my issue there, though, is that I may be subconsciously trying to replace something (and someone) that can never be replaced. If I let myself do that, it'll be like watching two friends walk away from me, when she goes. God, I really am an idiot. I'm pathetic, and I'm stupid, and I know this. I have problems. I cannot possibly be mentally healthy. Talk about irony, seeing as I am a nurse and have worked with many patients with psychiatric disorders.
When I look at myself, really
look at myself, I realize that even though I have a wonderful career (no job here yet, though, I know, I know) and I'm living in England (many Americans don't even get to visit
here), and I have the absolute best husband anyone could ever ask for and I have fantastic family and wonderful friends... the truth of the matter is that I've just been standing here, watching people walk away from me whilst I remain stagnant, rotting, and rooted (in a sense).
Suspended in time, struggling to hold onto things and people that no longer wish to be held onto. At least, not by me. In essence, sand and/or water slipping through my fingers. Unsurprising, really. Because honestly, do I deserve any better?
Might as well pluck petals for that question.Yes I doNo I don'tYes I doNo I don't.
I'm working on this. I really am. It's just hard, some days.
(Most days. More days than I care to count.)
But this is me. I am not remarkable, or beautiful, or perfect. I am apparently not wonderful friend material. I am human. I am loved, and I know this. I can be selfish. I can be bitter. I can get very angry when pushed to my limit. I can be clingy. “Letting go isn't a one-time thing. It's something you have to do over and over again—every day.”
I'm trying. I'm really, really trying. And maybe that's all I can ask of myself these days.