I've done a lot of back and forth on whether or not I should post about this, but the positivity and progress of the still fresh situation is far outweighing the shitty-ness of the whole thing. Don't get me wrong. The shitty-ness is pretty, well, shitty. I've never, ever, in my whole entire 23 years of life, been UNinvited on a trip (let alone two hours before we're supposed to leave). Ever. Never. Yuck.
I am pretty sure we're all aware of how infrequently I see friends. My gal pals. Those chickadees that are my support system. My village. Aside from Nugget and Husfriend and my immediate family, they are the ones who lift me when I've fallen, lend the ears for excitement/venting (sadly, sometimes venting gets more of the ear time than the excitement), to laugh when we get together for lunch or for our kids to play together or to see that new movie we've both been raving about. These times are few, but they're cherished. When they're pre-planned and you have a whole month to build the excitement to celebrate, what transcended in this particular scenario, well it was just plain murder of the soul.
When good friends lose touch, the impromptu question, "So what's going on with you guys?" is so out of the blue shocking to the person asking. It is so deep-rooted, intricate, complex beyond explanation in a few minute phone call. Did I happen to mention this impromptu questioning took place a mere two hours before the scheduled departure of a trip that has been planned for a month. A MONTH. There is a tiny little sliver of my being that understands the shock factor, the intuitive response, it's all human nature. For anyone who isn't as in tune with someone who used to know every new crush, every kiss, every gripe, every thing about your life on a daily basis, this news, this HUGE news of troubled waters, would definitely warrant the thought of "She must be running away."
Everyone is entitled to selfish tendencies when it comes to their birthday. I am guilty as ever of making the entire week of my birthday all about me. There is a difference between making your birthday about you, and accusing someone of trying to steal that moment from you. The word, accusation is a strong one, but it is the most fitting. We can all agree I am the most selfish bitch in the entire world. It's always about me. Screw you and your hopes and dreams, if something is happening for you, you better damn well know I'm going to make it about me. Someway. Somehow. It's going to be about me. Oh, wait...
Trips and getting together with friends are never an outlet for me to be counseled, to have someone wiping my tears and stroking my ego, providing me with an end all be all miracle answer to every one of my problems. Problems that have been dissected to death by me and Husfriend. They are between the two of us. Yes, there are times when I get overly frustrated with some stuff that happens between us that I broadcast it on Twitter or here on the blog. They are never things that have not been expressed to Husfriend. What were we talking about again? Oh yeah.
This, all of these shitty, shitty selfish accusations, they've opened my eyes to the seasons. No, no, not fall and winter that are not-so-fast approaching, but the season of friendship. I have always been a firm believer that friends, really good, always there for you, understanding friends are placed in your life for certain times and reasons. Sometimes, the season ends. In this case, I am most positive that it has. Some seasons last a lifetime. I was convinced that this one was a life-timer. I'm more convinced it has ended after this uncharacteristic trait has pushed its way to the forefront of everything and has trumped the true knowledge we have always had of one another. I'm all about salvaging what is left to be salvaged, but not at the expense of my personal well-being. My health. When I'm emotionally unstable as it is, a knife and a twist of this degree is close to unforgivable. Unforgivable that I was "left behind" for a misconception of the benefits I would have reaped from spending time with my friends, with no hint of counseling requests and completely unfocused on me. It was about her. It was always going to be about her. If I had a personal agenda, a personal benefit I was seeking from this trip, I would find it or not find it for myself. It was never intended to be up to anyone but me to sort through what needed to be sorted through.
So today, for a few hours, I've been sad and lowly. With so much to be celebrating instead, I've pulled my way out of a mini-pit to savor the day that is before me. The chance, now, I'm going to have to spend with my sister tonight at a sleepover and a full day of watching movies and making pizzas. The time I know have to slow down and really bond with my boys. The optimism is seeping from my pores. Am I still a little bummed I don't get to rendezvous with her and her, more so than not going on a trip with "real life" friends.
Thanks to the internets for being my village. My support system. You guys rock my socks. Serious.
