Thursday, September 24, 2015

The Trouble With My Heart

In the last few days I have found out that I have indeed become a writer, and I don't care how much I annoy people with saying that. I write more words than I speak because I simply don't know how to express myself in any other way. Last week, I had an four hour conversation with a friend who at this point knows more about me than anyone else in Egypt and despite telling him something about my recent and earlier struggles I did not feel better until I had written it down. Now I could write chronicles about all of my struggles, what I learned and how they affected me, and one in a hundred people might actually find it useful, but if I'm being honest with myself I know I only write for myself these days, and this blog is no different. Talk about soul searching...

There are people in life that beat out all the others to make it into your heart. I am very fortunate to have a heart that has room for many, but I'm equally fortunate to only have a few spots occupied. Making friends has been the hardest task of my life, and that is for a fact a struggle nobody would guess I have. And because it's so hard I have had a lot of people walk over me just because I was scared of losing them. I'm not the best with letting go of things or people, so I've made bad experiences, and some are harder than others. I have previously been sold by friends for 200 British Pounds, been lied to excessively and one of my boyfriends just appeared on social media with another chick halfway around the globe. I'm not stupid enough to want these people back in my life but I never let go easily.

The predominant thought I have when such things happen is a "Why?": why did they do that? Why did they feel like they wanted to do that to me? Why was I so wrong about them? In the end, I always just wish it never happened although, one could argue, I'm definitely better off not sharing the love with people who would steal my money or lie to me. It might be one of life's bigger issues for me to believe in the bad in people and apply hate where I should but I seem to be incapable of that. I always wonder what I did to make people do things that disappoint me so much, and I almost always seek the fault with me when my head knows it really wasn't mine. I go to my friends and say "Good thing I saw people's true faces", and I mean it, but I'm secretly wishing I never saw those faces.

I have taken a lot of small but very painful jabs from someone in the last few months and was unable to refuse to take it anymore because I knew he didn't mean to. My love for that person made me be their scapegoat for everything, and I took solace in the fact that I'm being there for a friend in need and that it's probably a temporary thing. People tell you not to do that for anyone, but those in my heart will always be able to get that from me. So I never told anyone. His intention was never to make me feel that way, but intentions are secondary to actual actions, at least in a right world. I, however, can't walk away. When I finally did his apparent indifference towards me turned into hate. And here I am now, knowing that person better than most people and wishing I could still be there for him. Sounds like that person who gets beat by her husband but defends him, doesn't it?

Being selective over the people I choose to call my friends has never appeared bad to me: the fewer people you trust, the fewer opportunities there are for pain. Unfortunately we keep falling, and falling, and falling for it again... When some of the chosen ones then secede from your heart though their space is left empty, and the majority of feelings in my body are wanting them to claim their space back, but that would never be possible. Four years after I lost a boyfriend to lies, drugs and other fun stuff I still wish he hadn’t made me expel him, and I would probably still be friends with the guy that sold our friendship for an iphone if the events hadn’t forced an end to those days. But with every such experience it is harder to find replacements and that fear isn’t fun to live with. 

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