~A Bitter Swallow~

It has come to my attention this evening that I have no friends. I don't say that in a tongue-in-cheek way either. I'm not being goofy, or snarky. Straight up- I have no friends. I have acquaintances- friends of the boyfriend, siblings, coworkers, etc. But I have not one single person up here that I can honestly say is my friend. Believe me, I've sat in my room for the past two hours trying to think of one, and gods be damned, I just can't.

So, I lie there and think back and try to remember when the last time I really had one was. Who is someone that deep down truly gave a shit about me? I can think of only two times in my life when that has happened. When I was about six years old in Onyx, and again when I was about fifteen in Lancaster. Each time, I moved. Far. Too far for real contact to be kept. Those friends from when I was six I have long since lost touch with. And from Lancaster, only two do I still talk to sometimes, and even that is usually just short instant messages or Facebook comments. I doubt either one of them could tell you anything concrete about me these days, just as I probably couldn't tell you anything concrete about either of them.

That's not to say I haven't had people who've been friends since I've been here. I have. But no one that continued to stick by me through thick and thin. I had always held the belief that friendship should be stronger than your damn marriage even. They are your rock when all the others crumble. They are suppose to be there no matter what. None of them have stuck around that long. Not that I blame any of them. They have their own lives to live.

But it makes me wonder just what the hell is wrong with me? What is it about me that makes me so forgetable, or makes people so uncomfortable around me? What is it that makes them smile and be pleasant to my face, but then back slowly away? I try to be a positive person. I try to be caring and open and available for people. I don't know what to do. It's always been this way. I've never made friends easily. I've never kept friends easily. I've always known that they would fade away into the sunset. Try as I might to keep them around, they always fade.

Now, here I sit, tears drying on my face. It's not like a part of me didn't realize this truth already. It's just that at some moments it gets dredged up and smeared across your face like dirty sewage. It's horrible, and it stinks, and you cannot deny it. You try to clean it up, but it's still just a dirty rag stuffed down into the laundry bin somewhere, smoldering. You can bury it as far as you like, but eventually it will make it's way back up to the top.