Bitter-sweet. It's an oxymoron and more. It's that feeling that you get when you begin to regret something. You know why you chose the way you did, but was it worth it? Sometimes, it's coupled with feelings of anxiety – I feel that now. I feel that always. There have been a lot of things that I've said or done in my life that I have immediately regretted - which is bizarre because at that moment; I've always felt unanimously for my decision. Then there's often this moment when I think to myself – "what if this all goes right?" I am smiling to myself now, thinking of all the times that that's backfired. It's not a happy smile, by any means – more one of complete irony.
Most recently, I fucked up a friendship. I blame her, she blames me. This isn't the first time for us, it's a regular occurrence. She starts, I exaggerate, I end. She's stubborn; I'm stubborn. But I have a guilty conscience. No matter how much I know this should just be the end of our friendship for good, I just can't forget how easy it was to be friends. Not easy; I see it now. I had to watch my words: I still have to watch my words. I had to be exactly what she wanted, nothing more; nothing less. When I wasn't, it was my fault. Generally, I wouldn't even realise she was ignoring me. I'm oblivious like that – or maybe I just always knew subconsciously how much of a moody bitch she is.
I see how I used to be in someone else now. It's funny to see how easily she moved on to another puppet, seemingly unaffected, while I struggle to recognise what a real friendship is anymore. Two and a half friends, I counted. This whole thing has brought out insecurities in me I never knew I had; I'm miserable and it's because of her. Why do we all give her power?
We don't. She takes it, and she takes it well. She winds her poisonous roots so deeply into us, that we don't recognise them as foreign anymore. One by one, she poisons us. But they all seem to be immune; or maybe I'm just the weak willed one always destined to fall first. Maybe it was just some ingrained grudge she held against me.
It makes me feel better to equate myself to a hero. They're always the ones hit hardest, the ones targeted. Perhaps this is all a part of shaping my future. She has changed me. I'm not who I was, and I fucking hope I don't stay this way.
Amongst this all, I feel so sorry for my best friend – if that's what she really is. I seem to find a way to blame her amongst this all. She's not blameless; nor am I, but the fault is neither of ours.
The fault lies with fate. The one who orchestrated this all. When it's all over, I just know I'll look back at bitter-sweet memories. There will be guilt, anger, perhaps sorrow. But no regret.