Project U

We are stars made of stars. And if you're a little New-Age-y like me, you're a star whose fate is in the stars...
...what happens when your stars die?

Hello, I am "Lilith". I'm back because I never should have left, ever. I never should have left my LiveJournal and Blogdrive blogs. I'm back because I know who I am by keeping a journal. I'm back because I find pieces of who I am from my old entries. I'm back because I met an awesome woman in her forties who I aspire to be, who pushed me to revive the old me.

I have lost myself throughout the years. Unfortunately, when I found the love of my life, I had to give myself up... I forgot who I am. I don't know who I am anymore, or I'm not sure. I don't even know what to do.

Who am I?

You won't find out who you are by thinking about it, but by actively making your life better. How do you know where to start when you have too many things to do and you don't know where to begin?

I make a list at work.

Where am I now? What is going on? What are my deliverables, who is the person in charge, what's the deadline and the status?

I think my life needs that right now.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

1. Family

Mom is done with her chemotherapy. It's been almost a year. I was crushed a few weeks ago when she told me that her oncologist said that the effectivity of chemo lasts for just two years. I don't know if she noticed a change in my expression when she told me that, but I felt... what was it? A rush of heat go up my chest from my stomach? I think remnants of that sensation reached my face. Some mothers can tell how you really feel behind a heavily-cemented expression... I can only pray that I've become so good at displaying a tough, positive exterior that it gets troubling because people think I'm okay.

I'm not okay. It's been almost a year since mom started chemo. The possibility of metasteses will go up two years after day one.

How is she? Is she okay? She said it so casually that I can't tell if she is learning to accept her situation. Once, before she told me this, she used the word 'terminal' to refer to her condition. It bothered me, but I brushed it off and thought she was just being pessismistic or did not want to have high expectations for her survival. I honestly believe she will crush this cancer and overcome it and age as I have always imagined her to be... together with dad... but I wonder if she's just handling things one day at a time, attending to day-to-day concerns as usual, until whatever happens, happens. I hated that thought. I hated that things have become lax at home... and that I am responsible for it, as well. 

I was the leader: I had the best plans that will help her recover fast. I led activities that not only helped her get healthy, but made her happy and brought our family closer, as well. Unfortunately, dad was just not into it. He's was too into himself and his own concerns that he could barely be bothered about his wife's health. I've learned long ago to accept that he doesn't love mom the way he should, but I had a bit of hope when mom was diagnosed.

Apparently, the crying and worrying and getting sick over mom's condition wasn't really for mom, but for himself. Who's going to take care of him? Who will stay by his side through thick and GODDAMNFUCKINGTHIN? He knows there's a huge possibility I would go the other way if he and I were left alone because he knows just how difficult of a person he is. He knows I wouldn't put up with his attitude. I love him no matter what, no matter how he is--but now, I'd like to make it clear that I have a love-hate relationship with dad. He treats mom so badly, it's unforgivable. He's unapologetic and yet he years for pity. Indeed, he is pitiful... but there's a whole side of him I just can't accept.

Dad's sick, too. He is afraid of getting checked because he knows he would lose it if the doctor tells him he has something terrible. Mom's condition was a shock; unexpected. He can't stop thinking that the same thing can happen to him.

Has our family bonded more since mom was diagnosed? A little. We still get on each other's nerves, we still scream at each other. Well... mom and dad do. It's like nothing happened. Whenever I'm around, I try to neutralize (WHAT. NOPE.) things by taking mom's side and yelling at my dad (YES. WRONG.) but when mom's on her own, I just wonder how much damage my dad does to her health. He's done so much, but he's in denial... so he keeps going.

Do I know a possible solution to help bond our family? Yes. Can I fix my parents' relationship? No.

Dad will always treat mom as a punching bag and a stressball. He will always find her annoying. I will always be angry that mom will never leave him, because I have tried to convince her so many times and even told her I had been dreaming about it since I was ten... but no. She never will.

All I can try to do is make sure he will never be her cause of demise!

2. Health

I may have fixed my bowel problems, but I am feeling all sorts of wrong somewhere in my abdominal area. I first felt discomfort the same month mom was diagnosed, but I brushed it off, thinking my body was having sympathetics... symptoms (?!) similar to mom's. I ignored it, and it didn't bother me until mid-year.

I experienced some pain after relieving myself. The pain was inconsistent, but it was always after I went to the bathroom. I got sick, got cured, had lab tests and everything was clear. The pain stopped.

The discomfort is apparent this month. I also had a few episodes of the same after-urinating pain and it lasted for a few minutes. At one point, I had to sleep it off so it would go away. I think I can feel a bulge inside my abdomen. I have a feeling I have stones... where and what kind, I'll have to find out when I see an OB.

I'm not okay.

3. Career

My third job redundated me because they can't afford my talent fee. Hmph! Eff you, too. It's okay, I was handling a dying brand... even though I had such good memories with that brand. Mom and I bonded over it and it's what got me into a particular Asian cuisine. Oh, well. I was thankful to get an invitation from an international company belonging to the same industry as my second and third jobs. The position was higher, the pay was higher, the people from my department are amazing and the brands somehow had a budget to spend initiatives on. Most people were difficult, though, especially our internal clients... but that's just how it is.

I won't lie, the job is difficult. It takes someone who is really in love with her field to stay as long as she can within the company. And, since it isn't family-friendly, and my family really needs me at the moment, I resigned after just 2 months. Initially, and on my first month, too, I brought that up with my boss. She declined and asked me to give it another chance by splitting time between work and my mom. I did... and stayed for another month. It didn't work, and now I have health complications, too. I end my contract with them next month... now I'm troubled for my career path.

I'm Miss Starts-Something-and-Never-Finishes-it. I've always been... well, since high school. Fuck high school, man, seriously. So much trauma from high school and college fucked me up and turned me into who I am, now. It's hard to accept who you are if you don't like who you are. I'm everywhere and nowhere. Mostly nowhere. Mostly a nobody. Nothing.

Now I'm looking into freelancing. I want to write and do voiceovers on the side. Here we go again. Because I don't have connections, and my skills need honing, and how fucking old am I? I feel demotivated about even starting somewhere. That's what always gets me down. Here's how I've always handled my career:

"I'll never be as good as _____."
"I'm not that good."
"She is better than I am."
"I wish I could be as good as _____."
"My skills aren't enough."
"I'm not as skilled/experienced."
"It's so hard."
"I'm trying hard, but am still not as good."
"It's a long way ahead and others my age/who are younger are more advanced than I am. It's useless, I'll just stop here and go with the flow."

Mom and dad told me I had a defeatist attitude ever since I was little. They didn't know where I got that from, because they couldn't think of anyone who was like that. When they asked me to do something, I would take a look at it and say I couldn't do it - e.g. climbing a wall, etc.

I fell out of love with my current field and, strangely, even when it's fucking annoying, I'm okay with it. At least I know it wasn't something anyone forced on me. I wasn't pressured to take all the fields I took since I graduated. I think that I am, at the moment, undergoing trial-and-error (bad for someone in their mid-twenties due to the increasingly demanding, aggressive and harsh world we live in!) career-wise and I'm taking baby steps to find myself in this regard. There's no other way but to do so, so I shouldn't really get mad about it, no matter how frustrating it really is. If I keep making the same mistakes (not exactly mistakes since it's T&E), I'll always be unhappy.

Who was I before all the pressure started? I was a writer and an artist. I was interested in sketching, speaking and writing. What were my favorite subjects in school? Retracing steps would probably help, so I'll do that.

I continued getting interesting interview invitations from good companies since I started at my current job but I knew I couldn't commit to a similar position after this. God knows I would have continued practicing my current profession if my previous employer didn't kick me out just because they were poor. If I had received the right kind of attention and training, I would have been great. I would have matured in this industry.

Alas, God has other plans for me.

4. Love

I broke up with Miles* when I started at my new job and I think we're currently at the process of patching things up. It really takes both parties to do so, because we've been going back and forth, switching roles all the time. We're both naturally terrible to each other, but one always gives way to the other. We just never happened to gentlemen at the same time... until now. I think.

Before all this, I felt slightly lost, but tried to look at the good side of things. I wanted to go wild. I wanted to mess around with strangers I'll never meet again. I wanted to be bad. I wanted to date, meet new people, pretend I have a vice or two... or four. I found myself talking to Jesse*. I don't know how things escalated that fast, but within weeks were... dating, or in some sort of exclusive mutual understanding. That was days after I left Miles. I was transparent with him, and I thought he understood my situation. Although I had always been interested in my relationship with him in another universe, or another time, I knew somehow it could never be on mine. We attempted that... we failed. 

Although it wasn't my fault, it was made to look like I fucked things up. Typical Jesse, actually. He blows up out of nowhere and you just can't figure out what sets him off. I thought he had finally grown out of that attitude. It is now clear to me that that's his nature... just as mine is I am unforgiving, and Miles is he's just uninterested, and dad's is he just thinks of himself/he's selfish. Jesse just finds a way to get pissed or upset at the strangest things. And he gets so, very, passionately upset.

He dumped me because I wanted to be selfless. I was thinking of his feelings, of his heart. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to do the right thing.

I hadn't gotten over my six-year relationship to my ex-fiance, and I had problems left and right. I told him I was broken, I told him if I wanted to deserve him, I had to be whole, and since he said we should take it easy, that I should slow the shit down, that WHOA MUHFUCKR I should step the fuck back for a sec, then he shouldn't be talking about getting me to move to where he is and living under one roof and marrying me. It freaked me out--yes, strange, those things usually don't! It did.

I also didn't like the way he played hard to get, like Hugh* did when he got at me and manipulated me. I now realize I do these things to Miles... all the time. Getting a dose of your own medicine never goes well... at first. If it teaches you a lesson, it's worth it.

I've become quite the optimist. I have to be... for my loved ones.

Uh, going back... after the dumping, I focused on work and other things, and when I finally tried to reach out to Jesse again, he made a snarky comment about how I "just didn't feel like talking to him" two weeks after our last conversation. I figured that he obviously ignored me on purpose. I was disgusted, but since I wasn't trying to chase him the way he wanted, I decided to slow down even more. I figured he wanted to be chased, and I didn't want to. I wasn't going to give him that because what he did to me made him unworthy. I saw Hugh in him and I was correct to never chase the guy.

A few years down the road, and if he changes into a better man (like Hugh) and I happen to be single, I might.

Well, because Hugh changed. He's less of an asshole, though still freaky/creepy, and getting less and less genuinely interested in me. Probably happens when you slowly realize you'll never really end up with the person you're in love with.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is why two people who used to have romantic feelings for each other can never truly be just friends, except in special situations.

In my case, men will only stay interested in you as long as they can get you. If all you want to be is friends with them, no matter how many times they swear they have your back even when you don't end up with them...

...it's horseshit.

5. Friendship

I'm also trying to trace my friendship traumas to find ways to fix it. One of the reasons I'm introverted at the moment might be the shallow, selfish people I am surrounded with everyday since high school. I've always had trust issues and I never get to keep good friends for a long time. I also barely see or hang out with the ones I'm close with... and they're what, one, two people from high school?

It's a problem because I long for companionship. Gross, did I really say that? Lilith v.23.0 wouldn't even dare mention her weaknesses! Then again, I'm the latest, upgraded version! I am better!

Acknowledging your demons is a good thing. You have to find out next, however, how to deal with them. All my personal issues are interrelated, so I need to fix them one by one. My desire for relationships with friends that run deep would affect my personality, my drive, my mood, my passion. I could be more successful, more confident, see more of the world, save those who need saving, cry less, be happier if I had more and better genuine relationships with friends. 

I don't know where to start here; I think it all begins with myself. I think the current reason why I repel people (which is the problem) is that they don't give a shit about me. They don't give a shit because they're not interested in my shit. They're not interested because my shit is all negative. My shit is negative because I'm just generally sad. Because nothing really great happens in my life. Because I am demotivated. Because of my past traumas.

An ex-boss said you will have an AHA! moment and figure out how to go about things when you run out of answers to the question "WHY?". That's what I think I should do to fix my bullshit.

6. Self

I need to figure out who I am, and what I need to do. Funny how fateful meetings with blessings in disguise (hello, close friend (would you let me call you that?) who I hung out with overnight just weeks ago, and 40-something inspiring writer/artist/biker I just met!) trigger you to do something big: I'd like to call it PROJECT U (U as in you, and U as a Southeast Asian word meaning 'to progress') in my case. 

When I find out what I want to do and do what I want to do in life, I'll be better. When I'm better, I can project better to other people (Miles, or, realistically, potential partners out there; relatives and loved ones; myself) and gain genuine friends. 

Unfortunately, gaining friends and partners means grabbing their attention the way an effective advertisement does (via interest). I guess I just have to accept that humans will always be selfish and unconsciously consider this question: "what's in it for me?" before they even commit (be friends with, go out with, buy, spend time, effort, etc. on) to something/someone. 

Fortunately, there are people like me who know this, and we can help others realize this, too. I think the end goal here is, when all is well with me, to help and save people in any way I can.


Wish me luck in this new project. Help me, God. Help me, Universe.


Lilith

--

*Code name/s

Lilith: warming up to my blog

When I was single, I had all sorts of art-related activities to keep my mind busy; distracted. Although, even then, I didn't constantly write poetry or draw, and I had little drive to take those talents seriously, I was always occupied (or preoccupied). Now that I am getting in touch with my old self, I remember how it felt like, about five or six years back. I always had a melancholic air about me... which disappear every time I was having fun with good friends or my close cousins and relatives. It was a lot easier to understand who I was, what type of person I was, back then, I think. Although I wasn't as open as I am now, I didn't confuse people so much before.

I still give people wrong impressions now. Just different ones. Much better ones, I guess? I don't really know. But I was attuned to myself a long time ago. After dating Miles* for a while, I forgot to look into myself; to converse with myself. I used to literally, silently speak with myself. 

"What the hell, Lilith? Did you really just say that? Ugh, yeah, I know, what was embarrassing, can we just forget about it? Listen to some music, that should help you forget! Right, I'll do that."

My older blogs even had comical portions that featured the three parts of my consciousness arguing/conversing. It's funny, and I could write endlessly, and with my eyes closed; I think, because I was so aware of my thoughts and feelings. I realize how raw my blogs could have been years ago when I religiously maintained them.

I've always been lonely, and I think this is the very first time I'll admit that. On here, an anonymous blog, too! I wonder why it's so hard to preserve friendships. It may be because it's hard to find friends that I actually like. There's always something that puts me off. I have friends that are so like me, yet their vast knowledge or their busy schedules or their fast-paced lifestyle kind of makes me want to take a step back. Sometimes, they really do matter to me, but I am just another random face to them. I've also been used by "friends" numerous times. These aren't even "friends". Jesus, I'm this old, and I still have trouble keeping company. What the fuck.

I have friends that are true soulmates, but distance and priorities keep me apart from them. I'm still happy we try to get in touch and we miss each other. I'm not sure how to take the changes in our lives, though. However, the fact that we remain friends despite the separation makes me feel warm inside. 

I know I can't depend on them, though; and they probably think the same about me. I'm not sure. The thing is, though, they're doing better than I am, and they're fine. I'm not, and that doesn't make me feel like a worthy friend. I feel like I got stuck (pushed back, rather?) in the past after the "big incident" with Miles. 

Blogging, writing, listening to music, watching films and series, reading, drawing, et cetera: these always kept me busy back then. I sometimes felt like I was forcing myself to do these things, and honestly, I don't go out enough. I think we've established that the reason for this is because all my real friends have moved on and it's difficult to find new quality friends (also: especially because I have left two jobs and didn't get to connect properly) nowadays. 

Despite having an active mind, I was constantly drawn to sad and gloomy emotions, situations, people, things... I think this really is where art comes in. I was so pensive. I wrote beautifully about the most insignificant things. I paid attention to very significant life issues and write extensively, intelligently about them. I was so gloomy, yet I was ten times funnier. How was that possible? How am I so boring now that I am more open, more vocal, less shy, more assertive and confident? How strange is that?

Ah. Of course. I gave all of this up for one person: Miles.

I used to hang out with my close college friends after school. But you know what they say: love is a drug. I got addicted to it. First, it was JC*--and a number of guys I was talking with, too, at the time. I was so into the fact that they might be into me; I guess it was because I needed a simulation of a relationship or dating (in order to write about it?). I wasn't ready to date anyone, mainly because I haven't found anyone who was that worth it, but I wanted to write about love and pain, and the beauty of sadness/loneliness that comes with it. I was so into art, so into love, I was basically in love with everything around me. Everything meant something, and I would write about it. Every small incident was a story. Everything inspired me. I was constantly daydreaming.

When Miles and I started getting more steady, I would hurry home, or wake up hours before I really should. I'd match my sleeping schedule with his so I could spend more time with him. I spent too much time with him and put him above everything. I'd rather stay home and speak with him that go out with friends or family. It was all about him. And somehow, I believed he put a lot of effort in making it about me, too.

But now that I look at everything--at us--from the very beginning to now--all those years--I realize that he only really had time for me because his schedule permitted it. If he had the option to speak with me while he was out doing something, he'd do it. But I really am... just an inconsistent part of his schedule. Everything--work, his health, his friends and family--else in his life goes first. I am just... something he squeezes into his sched. 

Meanwhile, I--

Picture this. I am working on seven projects on a big table: it looks organized, busy. Miles walks over-- "Hi, Lilith. Ugh, I'm so hungry."

In a matter of two seconds, I've swept all my papers from the table with my right arm, and grabbed prepared meals from under the now clean table, so we could eat together. 

Yeah, that's how I treat him. I'm never prepared for anything else in my life but him. 

I wonder why it hurts me that our goals are changing for the worse (for our relationship). You'd think by now that our plans are now more in sync, because we're getting older and more and more eligible for settling down. When he was red, I was blue. So I worked hard in considering being red. Now that I'm closer to being red, he decides he's going to be blue. Yes, I know people change, but why are things turning out this way? If I knew this was going to happen, that he was going to consider a future for himself without me, I would've just ignored him five years ago. I would have never let this relationship happen. 

The reason why I stopped going out, socializing, taking care of myself, doing art, BLOGGING, is because everything had become him. He had become everyone, and everything to me. My diary, too. Now that he's not around, I feel so uneasy... naked, even. Because I have nothing, no one. Before I realized it, he had become my world. I used to promise myself never to let that happen... with anyone. It isn't worth it. Well, I guess I taught myself a lesson well. I just learned it the hard way. This is something I will someday teach my daughter... at least there's that. Someone will benefit from this pain someday. It's okay.

My blog used to be.... mostly my everything. I wrote about my feelings, every single insignificant occurrence in my life. I stopped because I had him. I told him everything. He knew everything. And what do you know, he doesn't really tell me everything. What's the point?

Blogging feels alien to me when I first start writing after stopping for a long time. I think I should warm up to it again, because it helps... somehow. Crying and drinking and watching shallow movies have started to lose their effect on me. They just wear me out and make me uglier.

I wish I would never stop blogging. I don't think I have to commit to this a hundred percent, like I used to, with my past journals... but I hope I keep this one alive. I know it will keep me sane.


Lilith

--

*Code name/s

Lilith: Lost and Found

I. Lost

I left my job last month. After being bulled by someone from the management, I decided it would be wrong if I stayed a minute longer.

I think I mentioned in a previous post that a certain UM person was the root of most resignations where I worked. It was really just bad management, in general, and I could understand why people from different departments decide to look for other companies that deserved them. At first, I thought, the longer I stayed, the tougher I'd get. The better I'd be. I thought that by staying, I was proving a point... I was succeeding... winning.

Then, this happened:

One day, after accomplishing a few tasks at the office, I packed my bags and was about to leave for one of the outlets I handled--my boss told me I could. On my way out, UM told me not to leave because he needed to speak with me. I already knew then I was in for some huge bullshit. Prior to that, he sent an e-mail to the "marketing team", using the BCC option to "make sure we're not embarrassed", and as usual, insulted us without really insulting us. He's taking something out on us because we were not able to do something he apparently wants us to do.

I was led into a room with UMP and someone with a high HR position. My boss didn't know this (I was later informed by my mother that my boss should be informed of everything that involved me, work-wise). I was interrogated, questioned for my skills and abilities, because what I've been accomplishing for the past few months was apparently not enough. It was the usual: what have you been doing, what have you accomplished, what are you doing now, what can you do, and what can you accomplish questions.

I was inwardly panicking at the time because I was caught off-guard. I tried to be more vocal, and I answered every question. I was mocked and insulted every time; I did not get to finish some of my statements, and each clear explanation I gave was ignored, because my input was not valued. They clearly did not understand some of my explanations and insisted I was wrong, and they are right, therefore I had to be demoted.

All that, only because I have not acquired a sponsorship for an ongoing project that he has. First off, he never informed me that he needed a hand... from me. Second, my boss never told me I needed to do so. Third, I've been launching new brands ever since I started, which is top priority--so side projects like that will be accomplished alongside my main priorities UPON THE INSTRUCTION of a superior.

I knew all that.

However, at the time, I missed the fact that sponsorships were a a very minor deliverable in my contract. It was a by-the-way. It was a just-in-case. It was a could, not a should.

He told me I was not good, that I was not bringing anything to the table, that I have to contribute something to the company... which I was. I later on reviewed my job description and I was able to perform everything that was expected of me. And I performed very well! Even my boss approved of me.

I knew a few weeks before that that the company was cutting down on employees. They can easily let people go or stop hiring. They did not need to harass people and constantly insult them to force them to resign. I knew this was his purpose--besides being a bored lunatic who wants to stir things up all the time. He's the demon king who rules over the unwilling planet earth, who tortures and kills humans for a living... for the hell of it.

What happened was a lot worse than what I'm describing here. The closed door meeting lasted for about an hour, with me trying to calmly and politely explain and defend myself and him pursing his lips in anger exactly because I was. What he wants me to be is scared, quiet, shaking and stuttering. The HR person did NOT help me. Nobody from HR EVER really helped those who needed them. The good people. They were pro-management. In fact, the HR person helped UM insult me and put me down.

He put me under another department that reported directly to him, without informing my boss. Again. He had done this about 10 times since I started. My boss was furious but could not do anything about it.

I had a family emergency the next day and had to take the day off. I informed UM too but he did not believe me. He said I should show proof that I was not procrastinating. I was livid--my emergency involved my NUCLEAR RELATIVES and he didn't give a shit; he just did not believe it. I was going to put up with the crap he did the previous day--insulting me, badgering me, changing my position and my boss and pretty much everything else. But after that... I knew I had enough. The next day was a weekend, so I fixed all my turnover files, wrote letters of resignation and printed out every proof that I was pushed to leave for a good reason. I made sure I covered my ass. I handed in my resignation letter the very next week. It wasn't accepted at first, but I left them no choice. I gave them the reason and there was nothing else for them to do except take it.

I feel so bad for leaving because I was learning relevant IMC skills. My boss was seasoned, and the brands I handled had great potential. I was only starting out. Now I'm looking for a new job again, but I'm not so sure how to explain myself to potential employers. I find it so hard to. Friends keep insisting I just tell them I freelanced... I can't. My experience was relevant. I still want to have the same job... just somewhere else. Just with other people... younger people, preferably.

II. Found

If you know me well, you know that I'm not just good at looking people up online--you know I find it thrilling. I am obsessed with it, if I really wanted to know more about the person. A few pieces of information can yield a thousand if they're in the right hands (mine!). Sometimes, I just can't stop until I get enough information--the search can go for as long as days... or years.

Yesterday, I gave myself a congratulatory pat on the shoulder for another job well done in this endeavor. After almost a decade of trying to find new, relevant information about *Bruce. Up until a year ago, everything I found about him was passe. They were the same things I found years ago, after we lost contact. Anything else was useless; dead ends. 

I didn't stop. What seemed like a dead end a year ago had a secret passageway--there was a door I didn't see. One discovery led to another and... I found him.

I found out he didn't give me his full name--just the first two. Using those, I found at least five or six of his accounts. I can easily contact him now, but I am hesitant.

Why?

He was my first boyfriend. I'm not sure, but I think I was his first girlfriend as well. We were good friends before we took things to the next level. However, because of his immaturity and egocentrism and self-absorption, I left him. I wish I didn't have to, but even at age 15 I knew I couldn't put up with it. I sent him a note then disappeared.

I remember looking him up shortly after that. He never showed himself again. I saw a couple of his blogs and he never wrote about having any relationship. The slightest hint of that went along the lines of "I'm happy my friend won the girl over, as for me, I never really cared about love, nor do I care about it right now. We'll see if that changes at all."

I want closure. That's why I tried reaching out to two other guys I've had a thing with in the past, and lost touch with. I was mighty scared at first, because the reason those guys and I stopped talking was because things didn't work out. Either I hurt them, or they hurt me. I expected to be attacked once I introduced myself, but so far, so good, even with the nastiest parting I've ever had. To be honest, I am still searching for one last person, but things didn't end bad with that one, so I don't care as much. But Bruce? We definitely need closure.

Whether that girl he's with in that one picture is his girlfriend or not.

Whether Miles* and I are working out or not.


Honestly, I don't know why I'm so concerned about Bruce, when I am currently in need of a new job.

-Sighs.-



Dear Hotaru,

Nagisa finally found you. Nagisa will always find you. She's back to say she's sorry.
And "Let's continue our journey."



Lilith

--

*Code name/s

According to yours truly (ATYT): The problem with friends

I cannot believe I am starting a new journal, one that, I hope, I will be able to maintain for a very long time, because of a not-exactly-friend friend that I got into a fight with today.

Let us leave the introductions for later.

In my experience, most bad "friends" want to stick around when they need you for something—fun, laughs, entertainment, advice, ranting and complaining, companionship (both good (they like being with you) and bad (they feel awkward being alone and you’re the only one around who can accompany them)), tickets to some concert, prestige, popularity, oh, I can go on...

It’s unfortunate that I can only name two out of all of the friends I’ve ever had who have never used me. In fact, I think I’ve used them and owed them. However, if you know me, you’d know that I’d love to give back, and more, simply for their friendship. Knowing that they know that makes me happy.

I have been betrayed so many times by friends that I loved so much. One small misunderstanding and they up and leave. This first type of ‘friends’, don’t even bother to ask what was really going on in your head, if it was possible they misunderstood you and jumped to conclusions. No—they just assume the worst; that you had evil thoughts, you betrayed them, pushed them away for selfish reasons, and didn’t even bother to apologize.

Then again, why must you apologize if you did nothing wrong?

If somebody else dug a hole for you, and you were desperately yelling down for them to stop, but they ignore you and keep digging, all you can do is sit by the mouth of that piece of land and wait until they come back up. The problem is, they never do.

They’re ex-friends with you.

There are other types of Judas friends. The second one would use you and use you and use you and assume you’re okay with it (you are... at first, until you realize that you are being exploited). They make themselves available for you but inwardly resent it, and fail to hide it. They make excuses to stay away from you, but come around when they need you.

A subtype is one who forgets about you because of distance, but goes out of their way to be with others on a daily basis. This subtype, however, uses you in a good way. They really, truly want to be with you, but are distracted by the goings-on in their lives (which include other groups of companionship). They are just a little irresponsible—which you can be, sometimes. Some best friends can belong to this subtype.

Sometimes, this type can be a little more infuriating because they are overly detached, but still call you by the secret nicknames you made up together back when they used to not take you for granted. They will appear accommodating, but will find other ways to show you that you’re only getting the short end of the stick. An example? They would never go to your favorite aunt’s funeral to comfort you if you hadn’t mentioned that one of your cousins, who they like, will be there as well.

What a world we live in, eh? Is there a way for humans to evolve personality-wise and character-wise? In a positive way? I wonder. No, no... I’m not talking about culture. Unfortunately. Insensitive jerks have been around for ages; jerkdom has just been accomplished in distinct ways as dictated by culture. But jerks are jerks, whether they’re dressed in corporate wear, gowns, tights, robes or animal skin/fur (I imagine a slideshow of images portraying assholes executing their most holy assiness in said clothing).

There is also a subtype of user friends that love to insult you. I guess they want to feel more superior to you (one good thing about this is, they probably put you on a pedestal) or better than you because they are insecure about some things. That’s how they use you. They’re okay companions, really, they’re even fun and easy to talk to. But they make you feel small the way only people you look up to, who have the right to, make you feel small, minor. These people don’t push you to do better, though, they just make you feel insignificant.

Today I had my first fight with Ilom*. I never predicted a fight in our relationship, but I did predict a falling out of some sort caused by my being... user-friendly.

Ah, he finally snapped. He was in a bad mood today (he hasn’t been in a genuine good mood since the end of last year), but what set today apart is the severity of his foul mood. He was angry about something that happened. For some reason, I started talking about the lesser issue that was embedded within a bigger one. This led to telling him that I have possibly racist conclusions about a western group. He kept pressing to find out what this observation was, but I feared that he would, indeed, find it offensive. I made a joke out of it. I said:

How to make Lil tell me what she thinks about said western group:

1. Offer her some gourmet pizza
2. Don’t be part of western group (which he is part of)

It was a joke, that obviously meant I couldn’t tell him. Still, he pressed. Said the pizza was no problem, but he can’t undo his citizenship. So I said, ‘hey, too bad’. He said it was too bad, for me, as well. I didn’t know what that meant so I told him I’m fine. He then told me that he does hope so, but even if I wasn’t, it didn’t matter, because the fact that I didn’t want to share what I thought about something made him want to do the same. I just said ‘okay’.

I think the fact that I didn’t sense he was pissed, or possibly did and didn’t care about it, pissed him off. He wants me to be scared, feel guilty, or want to apologize. Basically just drop to my knees crying, or something like that. So he said, ‘later’, and told me to remember what happened today. I wasn’t sure if he was angry, so I just mirrored his response and assured him that I will remember. I thought he was going to leave, but again (and trust me, because I am good at reading people), because he was dissatisfied with my casualness, he continued, saying that he will miss our openness—at which point, I said, huh?

He began to explode. He said I’ll ‘fucking regret it the next time’ I ‘tease him like that ever again’. I was shocked. I told him I wasn’t teasing him and asked him to explain. Ah! He finally won. He had the upper hand. He said ‘no’, because I didn’t want to tell him what I thought about those certain group of people.

I was appalled. He said he was going to leave before he loses it; while I was in the middle of replying. Thankfully, I, who never allow people to end a conversation without letting me explain, sent him messages to his phone at my expense. I began explaining. Then I revealed to him what I thought about his people. He came back on just to tell me that hey, it wasn’t so difficult to admit that, was it? He left once again, and that was it. I was livid.

I don’t think we’ll be talking for a really long time, even when he’s around. I’ll make sure of it.

I used to allow that, allow friends to push me around, use and abuse me and disappear when I need them and not feel bad that they weren’t there for me. You, Ilom, said you would not tire of me. Said you would not leave me. I believed that, because in my darkest moments you were there, and you did not tire of me, and you did not leave me. You were up all night because I was hopeless and needy. Nobody sticks around for that.

I told you that one day you’ll end up as one of the unfortunate types of friends I’ve associated with; those people you called ‘garbage’. One day, you won’t think I deserve better; but you kept telling me that I’m talking about an event that never was, and never will be.

You know that one of my worst insecurities had something to do with people I care about treating me unfairly. You implied that you were better than those people. I also recall you saying that the only things that will make you hate me are death threats and lies. There obviously is no reason for me to threaten anybody, especially you, and I may be keeping things from you, but I’ve never lied. Now that you know that there are things I haven’t told you, I hope you’re not pissed. Everybody has things they don’t want to talk about.

Good, trusted friends of mine have told me that those who don’t value you don’t deserve your time, your thoughts. They deserve nothing from you. Somebody said, ‘a girl doesn’t need anyone who doesn’t need her’, and unfortunately, I agree (for the most part).

If you cannot stand the fact that I was uncomfortable about sharing an unqualified inference, and (quietly, gracefully) explode over it, and threaten me by saying you will never forgive me if it (what you assumed I was actively doing) happens again; implying that you will probably never talk to me anymore or disappear from my life, then by all means, Ilom, get out of my life, because you have always been free to do so.

If it angers you twice as much that I will not beg and plead for you to stay, please, blow your top off. It’ll make you feel better afterwards, anyway; plus, the emotional energies in the world will be more balanced (you know, as compared to when people bottle everything up inside so they can harvest food for malignant cells in their bodies).

You obviously don’t need me, the way the user friends I had didn’t need me. They can take me or leave me and just like you now, they do not see any value in simply being friends with me. You, they, want me to be superhuman—always patient, always there, always giving them what they want, always offering comfort, solace, time, effort; and never crying, never getting angry, never saying anything that would even slightly piss them off (from ‘I think prostitution should be legalized globally’ to ‘I don’t like gummi bears’—(readers, they are only examples)).

I have been working on being less needy and dependent, and I am improving every day. I am not as available as I used to be and I will never make myself available to anybody until I can trust them with my life. I am tired of learning the same lesson over and over again—that you cannot connect with people if you do not open up; but even if you do, a connection is never guaranteed.

I don’t need this, because I am strong, despite all the tears, despite the violent thoughts, despite my shortcomings, despite my mediocrity. Everybody has varying levels of these. But I am inherently strong. Whenever I think I’m breaking, I let it happen, believing the darkness will eat me up. I wake up the next morning with a harder shell, and realize I was never truly broken. I never have been broken, because there is an unseen part of me that knows how to fix it whilst delaying it.

Ilom, I valued your friendship, and I am heartbroken at the possibility of us parting ways. I wish we could stay friends, I like you, and I love you truly as a good friend.

But I loved all those friends that have hurt me in the past, too. There’s a bitter taste at the back of my tongue whenever I remember what they did to me, but I miss them; I miss them so much, and I wonder, every now and then, if there’s anything I could do to have them back. (And then I could start over—not be too needy, ask and not worry about giving back, be all over them one day and disappear the next, be that kind of friend. Then I can keep them around again.)

But I’m not ready for that, Ilom. They hurt me, you hurt me greatly, for the shallowest of reasons. You hurt me just as much as they did, if not slightly more, because you promised you never will, and I believed you.

I cannot be friends with you, dear. I don’t deserve to be thrown around anytime and not be bruised, and scared to approach you. I will not allow that... I have not allowed that for quite some time now.

I am constantly learning, dear. There is no excuse, not stress, not anger, not fatigue, not misfortune; for treating a human being who all but cares for you, this way.

But for all it’s worth (because maybe I was insensitive and thought you were more okay than you actually are), I’m sorry. But my pride and dignity assure me that I still don’t deserve this treatment.


Lilith

--

*Code name/s