Taking stock of myself

I’ve been itching to blog for the past week and a half but just haven’t found a decent topic to write about. It’s a little bit frustrating feeling like I have nothing of interest to say. In the absence of something more interesting I might just ramble a little about my life as it currently is. 

I’ve been feeling distant from people in general. Perhaps that is why I prefer to hang out with friends more or less one on one, or at most in a small group. Lately, I’ve been feeling a lot like an awkward child who tried to grow up much too quickly. Perhaps it’s because I take so many level two subjects, and am involved in so many extra-curiccular things, that I feel like I’m drifting away from some of my old friends, even the ones also in first year at Melbourne Uni. But at the same time, I don’t feel like I’ve replaced them with anyone else. Put simply, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to make friends.

I’m not someone who is good at expressing how I feel. Often, the more I care for you, the less I will show it. As a result, people seem usually quite surprised when I do express my attachments, finding them to be much more intense than they had thought. I remember hearing someone’s first impression of me as being, “someone who knows where she wants to go in life, and how to get there, but who doesn’t care for the people around her much”. ‘Intimidating’ is another first impression I often hear. A nicer way to describe it would be as being guarded – though admittedly more guarded than I need be.

I hate the idea of simply drifting from people. For me, it always has to be a decision. A decision on someone’s part to leave, or to stay. Someone must say clearly that they no longer want to be friends. I can’t stand the idea of leaving things unsaid, and misunderstandings unresolved. It just seems like such an unnecessary loss to me. But yet, it can be emotionally taxing, to pour your heart out when it had been so closely guarded; and even more painful to actually part. Recently I have even begun to wonder whether some of those choices really even need to be explicitly made. Perhaps I need to allow myself more space to let people go.

Slowly I think I’m realising that it’s alright for people to drift in and out of my life; and maybe the reason why I’ve always hated letting go is because I feared that they never knew how much I loved and cared for them. The more people I meet, the more I realise how many amazing people with beautiful personalities, intelligent thoughts, and loving hearts I will meet in my lifetime. Perhaps it’s time to come to terms with the fact that I can’t have them all, though many of these people could help write another page of my life – if only I would stop guarding my pen and paper so fiercely.

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