I did something stupid about a month ago. I say stupid because this is what people tell me it was, I don't think of it as that, I think of it as me succumbing to despair and my depression. I guess this act of...whatever you would like to call it...hurt some people. Obviously. I'm sorry to anyone I hurt, but I'm not really sorry for how I reacted. You can label me a mess, or a case, or whatever the hell you want, and at first I felt really guilty and bad, and sad, every other apologetic emotion, but then I got to thinking, and talking to people, and...if I lose my supposed 'best friends' over this, then I guess thats the case. I am so sorry that I scared you, that I made you look bad, that I caused you embarrassment.
I'm not really sorry. Sometimes you just have to realize that people grow apart. I was talking to a dear old friend today, and she was talking to me about this revelation she had about how in order to LIVE, and appreciate, and be alive, you have to suffer, you have to deal with suffering, and frankly, you have to be a little bit crazy. I'm a realist. Yeah sure I push things to the side that I don't want to think about, but when something scary and big comes at me, (which in my life its unreal how many times I've had to deal with that), I don't push it out of the way. I deal with it. This summer has been insane. I'll say it's been shitty. An awful, hurtful, mean, cruel, dangerous summer. I'm getting off track, but suffering. People have to suffer. And if you don't want to deal with something that's scary for you, or takes you out of an extreme comfort zone that you've been living with your whole life, I don't know if you are the person for me. You like staying safe. I don't. You do in every aspect of your life. You are always comfortable. Well life isn't comfortable, dear. It's scary, it's harsh, it's brutal, it's raw. I'm raw. Maybe I used to not be because I didn't know myself like I do now, but if what I've turned out to be isn't suiting for you, then carry on. I started to realize the conversations werent interesting, forced a little bit, and interests differed. I feel as though when I spoke you were just ... so unbelievably uninterested but you felt as though you had to listen, because you are such a good friend, when really it was going in one ear and out the other. My comments and conversations on philosophy and music and my passions started making me feel as though I was burdening you. I don't want to feel like a burden. I want to be around people who burn. People who are consumed by passion, feeling, emotion, error, and reality. This safe game has never been my forte, nor will it ever be.
I love you to death. But I guess I'm just not the person who fits into the ideal mold. I make mistakes, I hurt, but I deal with it. I don't hide my life. I'm vulnerable at times, and yeah I may be hurt over and over again but this is LIFE. That's what life IS. This is how creativity comes to the surface. This is how we learn. THIS is how we find out who we really are, and what we are here for. This is why we burn.
Stay safe kiddo, I'll be on the other side.