Reflections on a friendless self
My best friend left yesterday morning. It was one of those moments that dances the cusp between sad and joyful - sad, because, yes, she's going to be away for one whole year, but also joyful, because she's worked so hard to get here and I'm so proud of her and happy she's starting on this new chapter of her life. I tried my best to keep it together and did, for a quite a long while; in fact, I was okay all through a snooker game and a subsequent game of bowling, but afterwards, I went to the bathroom and had a bit of a cry. I don't think anyone noticed. Afterwards, I felt drained and lonely and begged one of my friends to stay with me, which was kind of pathetic and I regretted it almost as soon as I said it, but my parents were out and so was my brother and there was no one home. I know I should've gone home and tried to do some work, but my heart just wasn't in it. I wonder sometimes why I am in such constant need of attention and affection. It could be coz I've always been surrounded by it; it's like how if you're born and raised in a tropical country, you get used to and maybe even a little addicted to the warmth and when you're somewhere cold, you pray for the heat. My family is extremely close. I'm very attached to my parents and despite having the sneaking suspicion that I love him more than he loves me, I'm very attached to my brother. All my life, I've had these anchors of love and they've turned into my touchstones and when I decide to love someone else, like a friend, I transfer that same amout of dedication to him or her and become similarly attached to them. But see, people have to come and go and when that happens, I get a bit thrown. It takes a bit to adjust. I've been thinking about this personality trait of mine, musing over it. Went out to Ayutthaya today; it was the seven-year anniversary of my grandmother's passing and my father's family requested a mass for her and afterwards, we all got together and did what my family does best - eat and gossip. I was sitting there and I looked up at this portrait of my grandmother; it got me thinking of something my mother told me once. Right about the time I was born, my grandmother wrote my mom and asked her to send me to Thailand for her to raise. This isn't a particularly odd thing; a few of my parents' friends did that with their kids. My mother didn't want that for me though, so I stayed with her and my dad in the States. Sometimes I think about what would have happened if my mom had decided to do as my grandmother asked; how would that have shaped my personality? Would I still be who I am? Would I get so attached to people that I'm constantly gunning for attention and crying at their departure? It's sad, but I didn't know my grandmother that well. My Thai was horrible when she was still alive and even if it hadn't been, I think my brother and I were always a bit of a mystery to her. She loved us, that much I knew, but other than that, the two things I knew about my grandmother were - she was fiercely dedicated to her religion and her kids. She once pushed my father out of the way of an oncoming car and suffered permanent damage to her thigh that always caused her to limp a bit. I can't really say I'm like her in the first respect - I'm not what anyone would call religious, though I try to talk to the Big Guy as often as I can and thank Him for all that I have. But as for the second aspect - maybe being overly attached to people is a family trait, or maybe it's my manifestation of the family habit of caring fiercely and loyally. Anyhow, I think it makes me a bit pathetic and I'm going to stop, because my best friend is gone now and it's up to me to keep my own sanity in check.
Final thought: From Dinah Maria Mulock Craik, A Life for a Life: "The blessing it is to have a friend to whom one can speak fearless on any subject; with whom one's deepest as well as one's most foolish thoughts come out simply and safely. Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away."