I look at my friend. "Today has not been a good day. I need a little bit of reassurance." They look back "Oh, no. Are you okay?" (This was the whole choir/band debate I covered a while ago. It was a little over a year ago, though.)

"No, it hasn't been a good day. I just told you this."

"Oh."

"Sorry, I'm a little bit pissy. How are you?" They tell me that they're fine and I explain what's up. Meanwhile they don't pay attention, and they keep fucking around on their phone. I stare at them, and wait for them to pay attention. That day, I waited 10 minutes before they looked at me. I sigh. "That's all, goodbye." They let me go.

What I wish could have happened, was that I would have been able to actually tell them, with them paying attention. I know the problem wouldn't have been solved, but I do know for a 100% fact that they would have advised me to take my issues up with the people that caused them. Again, wouldn't have solved the problem, because of other reasons, but at that point I wouldn't have had to worry much about it. It would not have escalated. So I guess the written form of this would be:

I look at my friend, and say "Hey, today has not been a good day. I need some reassurance." They look at me, and sigh. "Oh no, what happened?"

"[Random names for three people] are 'going on strike', because I said band is better than choir. I probably shouldn't be as affected as I am by this, but I am. What do I do?" (Shortened form of the story, it's a whole thing.)

"You could start by seeing what your issue with it actually is, the fact that they think choir is better, or that they aren't talking to you. Assuming it is the last bit, go ahead and tell them what your problems are, because nothing is ever solved by being quiet."

At this point, because I was told to, I would have gone and done that. I would have gone to them and told them that I was being a dick, and not them. Next I would have told them that I would have liked to continue talking, because a little ass-kissery never hurt, and that's who I was. Finally, I would have just hit anybody I had an issue with, because I was getting tired of it.

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This is probably one of the biggest moments in my life, and definitely most impactful. It has made me the hateful person I am today, and I'm proud of it. However, if it had gone this way, I would have still been friends with a super toxic person, and I wouldn't have pointed out their flaws. (This will be in a future post.) That being said, I think thats all I've got for you now.

Take care,

Winter.

It came down to a letter of apology in her mailbox, a plea; I didn’t usually beg for anything, or feel much beyond fog, but this was going to be bad. It ended while I browsed through dresses at the local thrift store we both loved.

I thought about your apology, and I don’t accept it.

The horror of wedding dress shopping: I had stared her other bridesmaids in the face and only spoke to them in deadpan, clipped sentences. They were sheer perfection; if I could make them objects, they would be Marie Antoinette’s petit fours, exquisite in every layer. Their engagement rings glistened in the sunlight of the boutique like savage little smiles. I hated them, all of them.

There’s of course Isabella and her perfect life, who made my fall from grace possible. My smiles at her were darts. I didn’t speak to her at the bachelorette party I was supposed to have planned; instead of planning it, as the maid of honor, I had simply let my burn-out from work guide the lead-up to it, doing nothing to make it memorable. I pushed cake around my plate; my feelings of inferiority making me arrogant with petty blinders.

These women had everything I would never, ever have: fiances, husbands, shared apartments in the city, dream jobs that took effort to achieve and discipline to maintain.

Really, how could they? Honestly, their makeup even probably washed itself off after dark. Or, perhaps darkness is beyond them. One of them is is a therapist, helping the sad and dejected while never having experienced that herself. Before my sister loved her as a sister-in-law, we agonized over how little she must really understand her clients: her completely normal brain chemistry had never left her lying on the street corner, drop dead drunk and dirty. Dirty: another word that wouldn’t have crossed their lipstick stained, supple lips.

This is, of course, to say, I wish it had gone differently. Of course I wish I had thrown a fun, good bachelorette party. But it was beyond me to want to be anywhere near these women, and if we’re still to be honest, it’s torture just thinking about them.

Perhaps I am a terrible person, and I have certainly spent my fair share of nights wondering if I’m hopelessly, hopelessly awful.

After my sister told me she wouldn’t forgive me, I checked myself into a psychiatric facility to both cure my work burnout and hope she would see my sadness, my helplessness. She didn’t. When I checked out of the facility to go home, she didn’t return my texts that I had made it out. Neither did her fiance. They both ignored it all; everything from me was unwanted and toxic, a reminder of my selfishness.

My sister will, it’s obvious, never forgive me. I wish so badly I didn’t suffer from burnout, but that would be me pitying myself.

This sad tirade ends with Isabella requesting to follow me on social media; her likes on my pictures either just a reflection of her normal brain chemistry or forgiveness, or just sheer niceness.

I wish it had gone differently; my jealousy is a blood stain we won’t see washed off easily, a reminder that it wasn’t about me at all, it was just red and unfortunate.

This piece doesn’t make me feel good about myself, and hitting ‘publish’ makes me think of what this can contribute, but it feels good sometimes to vent; perhaps this can be a letting-go, if no one else benefits from it.

I wouldn't have said it

I wouldn't have said no

I wouldn't have looked away

I wouldn't have hurt you like that

But I was young

And pushing folks away was my defense

Against it all

And if I could go and take it back

gods

I'd take it back

all of it

because

that's not what you deserved

not from me

not from anyone

and knowing what I know now

about you

about me

about life

about love

The answer might still have been "no"

But

I wouldn't have said it

Not then

Not like that

Not in front of so many

I would have grabbed you

I would have faked it

maybe we couldn't make it

but

It would have been a damn sight kinder

Than admitting

we weren't gonna work

before even giving you a chance

to realize

why

This is probably silly but here goes.

How it went:

Dining in a restaurant. I reach for something in the middle of the table, just as the waitress does as well. She bumps my hand (I flinch, I don’t really know why) she says “sorry” I think I see the pain in her eyes. I say nothing of course(I’m beyond shy perhaps? Scared witless? Just witless?) It was years ago but I still remember it to this day. (I hope she doesn’t remember it)

How I wish it went:

Perhaps I still flinched when our hands collided. But as she says “sorry” I say “don’t be” and “you know how Chance sometimes scares you? That’s what I felt, a life passed in front of my eyes in that moment.” Instead of pain, I see a smile in her eyes, a most beautiful thing. It may have gone nowhere but there. Or perhaps it would played out as Chance would have it.

Again i was nervous what he would reply.

I was sad because he ignored me the past three days.

My phkne rang.

I'm sorry, i had a few bad days sweetie, i'm not annoyed by you or desinterested, you're my world i love you, please don't forget that.

I let out a nervous breath, my hands shaking as I type.... "I love you, I think about you all the time, we have so much fun together, it can't just be me that feels it". the drive back home from the concert is insanely long not just because of the distance from the venue to my house but because he only replies once I'm at my door. I grab my phone anxiously, my eyes widening at his reply: "I love you too, I know I haven't been acting like it but, I feel it too". Oh my gosh! I breathe out, my smile wide, but then I remember exactly how we got onto this topic, how can he be saying all this when moments earlier he was asking for advice about another girl? I swallow hard, maybe I shouldn't be doing this, maybe I should just accept the reciprication and be happy, but he's been doing this for months, the whole hot and cold thing is exhaustin. I sigh again my fingers typing my reply: "what about kelly"? I asked simply. His reply is quicker this time but none the less nerve racking: "I shouldn't have brought her up, I'm sorry, I just, maybe I'm just confused". I roll my eyes, what on earth does that mean? How can he still be playing the confused card: "it's not confusing Nathan, you've been doing this for months, you talk and act like I'm the only one you want and then you switch, what is this"? His reply makes my heart beat faster, despite my best intentions to steady myself: "I'm sorry, I've strung you along, I guess i just wasn't used to getting so much attention, girls don't exactly look twice at me normally, but I do love you, you have to believe me". My eyes start to water, sheer happiness overcoming me, but I won't share him, not with anyone, especially not Kelly: "you can't have us both" I text back: "I wanna be with you Nathan, so make a choice, and once you've made it you can't go back on it ok? Me or her"? His reply is instant, so quick I almost don't register it, no one word has ever made my heart soar so high: "you".