Sandali

[noun]: a moment; a minute; a short time.

I haven't written in a long time... That's a lie. I haven't really finished writing anything in a very long time. My last post was published in September of 2020. A lot has happened since then. A lot of life changing moments and instances. After 9 months of procrastinating and running away from what I have no control over, I think I'm ready to write again. I think I'm brave enough to let my soul breathe and speak, without fear of being ridiculed or ostracized. So, here I go.

For some reason, June 10th has always been a date in every year where something significant would happen in my life.

In 2017, I realized I loved the man I was dating, looking at him from the passenger's side while he was driving me home, rushing to make it before my dad's set curfew.

In 2018, the same man texted me "I don't love you, audrey," and completely shattered my world. Whiskey and nicotine saved me that night.

In 2019, I was printing out a K-1 Visa application to the united states and researching how I would be able to be sponsored by my significant other(a different one this time), who was serving a contract at the USMC.

And in 2020, June 10th was the date I sent a text message to two significant people in my life, not realizing that it would be the last time that I would be reaching out to them, thinking that everything was okay. Vague, but details aren't necessary.

A little bit of context. In my last post I spoke about 2 best friends that meant a lot to me, but I am no longer in contact with. I didn't trust many people because I had major trust issues that stemmed from mistakes made in my childhood. The family that I was supposed to trust my life to and look for when I feel like the world was ending didn't really show me that they had my back. It felt like I was never really accepted by their norms and values. I was always too loud. I was always too much. When I met X and Y, that changed. They saw the good, the bad, the ugly, the confused, the lost, the desperate. They saw everything that could make you want to avoid any and all kinds of drama in your life. They never left me behind. They always tried to include me and make me feel like I wasn't crazy for being myself. They had my back no matter what it is I said. I had theirs. No matter what happened and whenever they needed me, I was there. In them I found people I could trust, because I came as I was, and for some odd reason, they learned to love me unconditionally. Or so I thought.

And again, to clarify: I am only telling a vague version of my side of the story. I still love and respect the both of them and wish them well. I am sure they had their own reasons to do what they did, that was reasonable for them. I must have done something that hurt them and made them uncomfortable. And if that were the case, I take full responsibility. That's on me.

Regardless, they still mean a lot to me and I would never wish them any malice or unrest.

The end of the friendship was not great, it was vague, and there was no closure. Nothing was clear. I was confused. I felt left behind. For months, I was lost because my "persons"(please refer to Meredith and Christina from Grey's Anatomy) no longer existed. I was alone. I had no one I could really trust. I agonized over wondering what I did wrong, what I could have done differently, why they would have done what they did in the way that they did it. I thought, and I mused, and I overthought, and I lost my motivation to find comfort in the company that I keep. It was difficult for me to make friends after that. I found that I couldn't trust people again. I wouldn't allow myself to let people in.

I never heard from them again. Not my birthday, not Christmas, not New Years. At first it was hard. I was sad and hurt. But over time, I learned how to live with it. Slowly, but surely, I was able to find appreciation for a learned lesson, and to make peace with it. I was working a job that I surprisingly enjoyed. I met new people in my life that showed me that it is okay to be myself, but also to grow because all mistakes are fixable if it had nothing to do with death. I dropped out of university to pursue a passion that I was running away from for a really long time. I was working my way through obstacles in a direction that showed a clear path to getting my shit together.

Then one Friday, May 28th, 2021 at 4:52 PM, I received a text from X, reaching out, asking if she could call me. I have PTSD. So when I saw her name on the text message notification, I wasn't driving down Route 90 anymore. A series of flashbacks came about, and I don't know how or why, but I was still alive, driving down the same road for what felt like 5-10 minutes later.

For a moment, everything came crashing down on my chest. For a minute, tears started welling up my eyeballs. For what felt like forever, I couldn't breathe.

11 Months. I haven't heard anything from them for 11 months.

I immediately called my mom because I didn't know what to do, or what to decide. Years of trauma and being told that I was selfish in general didn't allow me to be free to decide how to feel. I didn't know how to feel about the situation.

If I could describe how it did feel, it felt like I was alone, in a room. No doors, no windows. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling all were the same colour.

On one side of the room, I was really glad and happy that she was okay. I was grateful that she was in a place that was good enough to have the strength to reach out.

On the side next to it, I was confused. All I could ask was why. I was already happy. I was already okay wishing them well from afar. I've already made peace with the fact that I was never going to see them again. Why now? Why today? Why, when I have my shit figured out and I know what I want to do with my life? Is this something they wanna do just to fuck with my peace? Is this just something they want to do to make themselves feel better about the situation? (I know I'm not that special and the world doesn't revolve around me, but it was a lot to feel at the same time)

On another side, I'm really really hurt. It reopened a wound that I thought was already healed, and it's very obvious that I wasn't prepared to face that. It was difficult to experience flash backs that showed myself crying, and begging, and texting as much as I can on every social media app that I had them on, calling them and leaving voice messages when they would reject my calls, because I was desperate to hear from them and for them to tell me that what we had was okay. I felt crazy. I looked like a fool. It was embarrassing the lengths I went to hear a response. And even with the response, I had no answer. Sitting on that side of my brain, feeling it out, processing it all.. I felt like i needed to be checked into a psych ward. I was crying, I was laughing, I was asking questions, I was screaming. I was hysterical. I felt the hurt through every inch of my body. I was diagnosed with BPD, so managing my emotions is something that I don't have control over, and it pretty much takes over my life and day to day. The weekend after receiving that text was unsettling. I was on edge.

Finally, on some kind of saving grace, I faced the side of the room that I never thought I would see. It's difficult to be angry when you've developed a condition of unconditional towards people that you have learned to value, regardless of any wrong doing. And even if every voice inside and outside my head told me that I am free and allowed to be angry and to hate them.. I still loved them like it was June 10th, 2020. I couldn't bear to tell them if they asked me what I went through or what it had caused me. It would be cruel to allow them to experience that kind of pain and live it through my experiences. I could never do that because I love them too much, and I wouldn't wish that kind of loss upon anyone, not even an enemy if I had one. Despite what happened, I don't hate them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't be angry.

I sat in that room for a while. Sitting on the thought of every side, weighing out pros and cons over and over until I fell asleep. For days it felt like I kept going around a monopoly board, passing through each side like it was a train ride, and constantly finding myself at the GO spot catching my breath, without collecting 200 dollars.

And that's not even the worst part. My biggest fears would be

1. Hearing X's voice, seeing her face, and losing my shit and my already bruised ego and pride, uncontrollably, because I don't know how my body and my mind will react to being around her again after so long, and after such a dramatic exit.

2. Seeing her, hearing her side, understanding what she had to do and say, and why she did it... and feeling nothing. I don't want to not care about her. She still meant something to me. She was there when I was about to give up on my own self and my own dreams when I was at my lowest. She saved my life.

After about a week of being confused and sitting on the decision of whether or not I want to meet up and talk to X again after almost a year of not having her around, I made peace with the fact that no matter what it was, I needed the answers to heal.. for me. I'm doing this for me. At the end of the day, I have already forgiven them. However it is I feel, and whatever it is I think after it all.. It is what it is. I survived and found a way to find strength on my own, and later, with the help of others. I will be okay.

I have no clue what June 10th, 2021 has in store for me. But whether it is a blessing or an obstacle, I know that I can take it and will still be forever grateful for the people that I have around now, and the person that I am today.

I hope one day, I learn to forgive myself for my failures, my flaws, and my faults. If this is difficult for you, I hope you learn how to do that for yourself too. Because I hear that a huge weight gets lifted off your thoughts, your shoulders, your heart. And I want to feel that one day.

Stay Grateful! Stay Bueno!

All the best,

Czari ♪♫

image by Wix Media