Tuna & Tea

When you’re little, you think everyone that crosses your path will be with you forever.

You think that your best friend will always be just that.  The best.  The one.  Always there for you.

And when you grow up, you grow apart.  From everyone.  You meet new people and your new self seems to match these new people so perfectly.  But then time does that silly thing it always seems to do.  It keeps on going.

And you grow more and more and more, until you don’t think you’ve changed at all, because the days pass and you don’t even realise what’s happening.

Soon, the people who are important to you become people who were important to you. Were.  Past tense.  Before.  Not now.

I miss it though.

Believing that people will always be there for you.  Believing in forever and ever.

I don’t believe in that anymore.

I just believe in people putting in as much effort as they want to get out of any relationship.  I believe in people making decisions and mistakes and wanting to fix things. And no, things don’t last forever, but they last as long as you’re willing to let them last.

I used to, and sometimes still do, dwell on the past.  I’d cry and wish things were different—that maybe if I had changed something, you or you or you would have stayed. Losing someone always hurts.  And it’s not always by choice.  But when it is, I always wonder what I had done wrong.

Maybe if I had been more popular, my best friend would have stuck around.  Maybe if I was prettier, that boy in seventh grade would have liked me back.  Maybe if I had been someone else, he would have wanted to try.

But I wasn’t and I’m not.  And even though all these people have come in and out of my life, I don’t regret too much.  People leave for a reason.  And maybe they don’t even really leave.  I had as much to do with them being out of my life as they did.

It’s buried within me— a small, but significant portion of my heart dedicated to those who have left so willingly.  It aches sometimes and no matter how hard I try to forget, I can still feel it.  And though I’m happy, really happy, my mind drifts back to those people.  I used to say it was unfortunate.  I used to call myself a victim.  But not anymore.  People grow apart.  It happens.  I’m not saying it’s a good thing.  But it’s not a bad thing either.  When certain people leave, you’re left with others who matter more.  You’re left with people who believe you mattered more than they did.

I’m not angry at them anymore.

She was a good friend.  One of the best.  She was the first person I called my “BFF”.  I think we all remember those people.  And even though she isn’t my best friend, or even my friend, anymore, I’m not upset.  She gave me a good six years of her life.  She made me laugh and taught me how to treat other friends, and maybe how not to.

He was careless, reckless, stupid.  The first boy I ever slow danced with.  The first boy I ever cried over.  I didn’t really even know him.  But I don’t hate him.  I could never hate someone who taught me not to rely on others for your happiness.  He was everything I wanted to be.  And everything I know I could never be.

I guess I would consider him the only guy I ever genuinely cared for.  At least I think so.  He made me laugh and smile and act stupid.  And even though he left even quicker than he came, I’m not angry.  I don’t know if we’re different people now after what happened, but I do know that I see things differently.  Maybe I’m more guarded now because of him.  Maybe I don’t believe in falling in love.  Maybe he made me into even more of a cynical hole of despair.  Or maybe he just proved that you can’t be so careless as to lose yourself for someone else.  Maybe he let me see that you need to—have to—trust yourself before you can trust anyone else.  And maybe him leaving was a blessing in disguise.  Because I know that I am so much happier without having to be sorry for having different priorities.  Because I know that I am so much happier doing things I love, and not having to be sorry about it.

People leave you, but the things they teach you never really do.  We all leave someone behind, and no matter how sorry you are or how far you think you’ve moved on, we always think about it again at some time or another.  But it doesn’t have to be such a sad, pitiful thing.  I guess I’m starting to see that I’m lucky that people have even wanted to cross my path.  They don’t need to stay forever; just long enough so that I can remember their face so that I may thank them in the future.