09.02.23

Everytime i think i have real friends, im cut with their insincerity. Its a circle, a goddamn spiral. After awakening from my prolonged solitude, met with new friends and opportunities-- i rejoice. I smile and feel warm inside. I take pictures to try and save the memory that my own skin wouldn't. Then they become inconsiderate, they disappoint and remind me that i am not their best friend. I scowl at the memories that need no photos to recollect. Sitting in that art room for lunch, patiently waiting at my own table while my friend facetimes her better friend. Standing from civics class, meeting my friend for her to only walk past me, refuse to look back when i stopped walking. And yesterday. So excited A liked me. So grateful her and G wanted to eat lunch with me, to have fun with them. Pulling out my phone, i ask them where they want to meet up. They tell me they're in the other part of town by now.

I think, maybe the times that G hangs out with me. Its just so that she's not alone. I accompany her not because she enjoys me, but because i put her anxiety of being alone to rest. 

Everytime i accept my solitude, learn to love being alone, i am pulled out of my hole by someone new. Everytime i breathe a breath of fresh air, of relief-- i am denied anything more than that. And again, i have to learn to accept my solitude. Again, this year i am reminded how i will always be met halfway.