Monday, 28 November 2005

The Yawning Pit Of Hell

It seems to me that some people have a problem being true to themselves. It's because they're so caught up with serving other people's needs, keeping up with other people's wants and desires, that their needs and feelings take a backseat. These are the people who end up being doormats, and every needy, pushy, self-absorbed, self-entitled 'friend' (nee 'emotional blackmailer') will wipe their muddy baggage on the doormat of these sensitive souls.

I used to be such a doormat. Until late this year, when I realised that such friends were sordid abusers and fucking losers. Until I realised that I was happier without them in my life. And that they were basically lying to me that they were my friends. When in fact they just wanted me to be a loyal acolyte, to be a little worshipper of all their needs, salve all their fears and right all their wrongs for them. Who was I to do that? What about my happiness? Which, by the way, was summarily ignored?

Such 'friends' pretend to be your dearest soulmate, but suck out your soul from out under you, by constantly demanding your time, attention and presence. They don't seem to understand that you have needs, and need a life of your own. They don't seem to understand, that everyone has moments, and that not everything is about them. They seem to think that your every act is calculated to affect them. Don't they realise that your world should not revolve around them and that everyone needs a life of their own?

I made a mistake last year. And after realising I made a mistake, I apologised and made amends. It was not enough. So I sought to fix that which I had broken. I have now spent a year making amends, apologising, and running around like a headless chicken atoning for my sins, by doing every single thing that my much maligned and emotionally fragile friends have asked. And yet, the abuse, the recriminations, the anger, the guilt trips: they never fucking stopped.

So enough is enough.
I've said I'm sorry. I've tried to fix the mess. Fix that which was broken.
But I can't. You won't let me. You don't want to let go, to forgive, to move on. So.
I've had it.

And I'm happier without the whole heap of you.

The loser ex-boyfriend. The loser ex-best friend. The loser workmate. The loser [...enter name as appropriate...]. You have shown that your friendliness is just a charade and that behind your mask, a yawning pit of hell lies in wait for all those who know you.

You can all fuck off and die.

And here's a poem to celebrate that. It's not mine, but it captures the mood very effectively. And it gives me a little zing of joy that I'd like to share with all my readers and lurkers out there.
Make Today Special

Share a joke
Hum a song
Pass some
special joy along

and if someone
should come your way
who doesn't
share your joy today

The hell with 'em!!

-shoebox, anon.

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