5/21/13

I usually feel uncomfortable when I meet someone for the first time. I hesitate to look inside of their eyes, or I try my hardest to not brush against them; allowing their touch to meet mine. Whenever I meet someone for the first time, and I feel comfortable, I know that from the start it’s going to be a beautiful, long, and worthy kind of friendship. I think I don’t have many friends because of effort. Effort that I am usually the only one that makes. I’ve drifted away from so many people over the years, and most of the time I am fine with that, but there are times were it almost eats me alive. I always think about what the last thing was I said to a friend that I haven’t spoken to in years. Or what they are doing now; are they happy? Or better asked, are they better off without me? I think knowing that someone you once loved, or cared about a lot, suddenly dislikes you, or could care less that you still exist, is one of the worst feelings. I’d rather know that I could be able to run into that person, years from now, and be able to look into their eyes once more, and feel that comfort that I once felt so suddenly. Watching something drift away, mostly something you once felt so strongly about, is a terrible and frightening feeling. You wish that you were able to reach your hands out again, to touch theirs, and to help that person make their way back into your life. But then again, you know that both of you know that it will never be how it once was.