Every morning, as is my habit, I check in on Pinterest for a few minutes while still in bed. It's really the only time that I get to check there, that website which gives me tremendous lust for beautiful clothing (that is often no longer available, wth, Make the Rounds dress from Modcloth??) while simultaneously making me lust for yummy foods and toned, well defined abs.
I'd woken up this morning and grabbed my phone to see the time, noted that it was much too early and thought to do my usual morning check in and maybe then go back to sleep. When I saw this quote, I stared at it for a hot minute, pushed the button on the top of my phone to turn in off, and turned over in the dark. I laid on my side and stared in to the dark, and really thought long and hard about this quote. I realized that it hit me very, very deeply, and could be tied in with the "Cogs in a Kaleidescope" post from a few weeks ago.
I'm not the greatest at friendships. I try, I really do, but time and stress and responsibilites and being somewhat high maintenance all combine to work against me. I'm a difficult person with super scandalous standards, a fierce potty mouth and an overwhelming desire to both be correct and have time in silence.
It's also difficult for me because I don't have a lot in common with many people, and my ideas about things and situations tend to run counter standard. I'm also known for being somewhat filterless, mostly thoughtless and somewhat self centered. It makes me somewhat wary of making friends - for I wonder sometimes if people will really want to be my friend, if they really get to know me. Maybe those frienships have faltered and faded *because* those people really saw the true me and ran helter skelter for the hills.
Yeah. You are all running to compete to be my best friend, I can totally see that.
It's not like I'm having these ENORMOUS visible break ups - many times, for whatever reason, the friendships are hot and heavy and then fade. It's like we grew apart - which is a super analogy and one that is trite and overused and, above all, true. I spend a lot of time in self flagellation - what did I say *this* time, how did I screw up *again*, what did *I* do wrong -
yeah, I always make it all about me.
But what if it's not?
What if the cessation of a friendship is just because that relationship has lived it's life to the completion, and being friends with that person serves no purpose in either your OR their life? What if your friendship has come to a natural end, you've given everything that you can to that person and, for whatever reason, you are of no more need to them in THEIR journey?
It puts an entirely different spin on things.
Maybe, instead of beating myself up about it so often, I can reframe the lenses through which I observe myself. Maybe I'm filling a spot in someone's life and once I've done that, I'm the one walking out of their play.
It's not always about me. I need to repeat this until it actually sinks in.