Hello and thank you for giving this title a read. I hope it’s worth 5 minutes of your time. It’s my birthday week and my excitement is quite apparent.

I am conflicted. A part of me dies every time I recall friendships that failed me. Yes. People you have entrusted so much power, love, and respect. It’s a hard pill to swallow but they are sometimes the people who have failed us most. Maybe not you but in my story. I can’t even think of where to begin because it gets to my last nerve.

I had this friend. Let’s call him Guy. This is to inform you I recently watched Free guy(a great movie by the way) so we will call him Guy. He was the kind of person you would always have close to but not close enough. There was a very thin line. The reason for this is that I tend to be afraid to let people get close to me for the same reasons Guy was close but not close enough. In some ways, as meme lords but it was a ‘hatujuani ivo’ kind of friendship.

I would always reach out to Guy. Ask him how his mental health is doing. Suggest better alternatives for dealing with things he was going through, other than sleeping over them. You feel me. Let’s just say I was his punching bag. I made myself his punching bag for his emotional problems. In my mind, I didn’t understand why someone would just keep their problems to themselves. I am a fixer I tend to carry people’s problems as though they are mine. This constant urge to heal and fix. And I do not mean that in a good way. Fixing is bad. Let people deal with their own problems. Being there to support them through their problems is recommended. But I digress.

Anyway, you would think it was mutual but it wasn’t. Shocker? Not so much. Because that’s what society is evolving to nowadays. The constant loop of trauma. I looked at this long-ass text on my phone of Guy asking me to fuck off and not involve him in my problems because he has problems of his own. Honestly, I deserved that. I was too busy giving way too many fucks about Guy’s problems to notice nothing about that friendship was mutual.

I fear for our generation. I genuinely think that some of us have been so wicked in our dealings in our past lives that we come back to the trauma we have inflicted upon others. And that’s all you get in this lifetime. You have to heal through what you put others through. But on the contrary, it’s like in this generation we have been sprinkled with some kind of trauma-giving fairy and we don’t even take time to heal from our own traumas. I don’t know much but I swear this makes so much sense in my mind.

While I’m not here to only complain. In this life, I have made great friends. Friends that call you so that they know whether you have breakfast at your place. Friends who aren’t there only when you are your best but those who are more than ready to welcome your moody low vibrational self. Friends who tell you when they are having the time of their lives. Friends who know exactly what different things mean to you. The ones that dance with you to your favorite song. Friends who know how much they mean to you. Friendship. And love is obvious to the extent that mentioning it will be an understatement. I am glad.