friends

Will it be different?

I have had an an odd relationship with (who once was) my best friend since we met. We met when we were like 7, because she was new at school and I was assigned to show her around and be her friend. It worked, we became inseparable. We grew up together, both of us had big issues at home, I never really told her any of mine, but she knew I had some, where she told me everything and often we would escape to the park or library and not come home for hours after dark. I lived with her for a while, with her and her boyfriend, and my boyfriend Nick who stayed with us often but didn’t actually live with us, this is where things went wrong. One of my first posts here at the AGA was about my escaping that house. I remember being so glad to leave and be safe and away from all of those people. Then I went to Canada and to Asia and decided to come back to New Zealand and go back to school, and being back in my old city lead me to meeting up with my friend again.

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Taking all of the responsibility

Yesterday as I sat on the couch after work comforting my friend who was sobbing on my shoulder due to an arguement she had with her boyfriend and how she didnt know how to fix it, I started to think about the many times I have been in this situation, sometimes it was me there sobbing on someones shoulder. Most of the time it happened I found out later that the guy was just out having a beer and a good time while I was at home trying to make everything good and nice for if he came over after and I could fix the arguement. So I asked my friend why do we do this? We didn't really know the answer to that question so we blamed our parent's for 30 minutes and then we went out for a beer.

Seen the other side

This is going to be hard for me to post. I am not sure exactly why I am posting this at all, but I will because this has shocked me into reality about something that I have treated like some sort of option in my situation, some sort of relief of what I am going through, and this last weekend has really shaken me back into reality and I realise how very selfish I have been.

I have had people in my life commit suicide before. With them, I got a phone call, they were gone, I cried, I screamed, I sat in black at the funeral and felt like my insides were raw with anger and grief and loss, but this was different. I got the phone call. My friend, dear friend, who I don't see enough anymore, was in the hospital. She had overdosed and cut herself badly and was found by one of my other friends just in time. There was no time for tears. I sat in black at the hospital next to her bed, neither of us saying a word to each other just staring, my hand on hers. It was wierd, to be the one next to the bed. I have been the one laying there, more than once, waking up and realising where you are, only I dont remember someone holding my hand. Eventually they released her, and I drove her home. She lay down for a sleep, while I cleaned up the house from the night of what we were calling, the accident. Even though we both knew, it was no accident.

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