Katheryn Schulz said we live in a ctrl+z culture, and she's right.
I was just changing my background picture rotation, to take B's son out of the lineup, and add some wedding pictures. I've been married for over 6 months, so it's about freaking time. I can't erase her from my life, from my memories. I don't really want to. I don't want to make this more difficult than it absolutely has to be, though.
Believe it or not, my goal isn't drama. I feel like sharing, or at least purging a little of the sad moments.
I'm not foolish enough to say I have no regrets, but I'm not drowning. Life is good.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Regrets
I don't buy into the "No Regrets" moniker.
In fact, the day before my former friend got fired, I watched a very inspirational video about living with regrets, and NOT regretting regrets. (TED Talk)
God sends amazing things my way. I had no idea how much I would need that in the next few days, or how blessed I would be by the song "It Is Well With My Soul."
Those first few days after I lost B were tough. I felt so betrayed and hurt and foolish, but I didn't doubt that the mistakes were hers, not mine, as was the broken trust and hurt. My husband pointed out he's a better judge of character than I am, and he didn't see her doing what she did. No one did. That's what made it so tough.
Back to regrets: for a brief moment, I regretted almost every good thing about this year. I regretted B was my Maid of Honor in my wedding, and that we shared so much of those happy moments earlier this year. I regretted that still I care about her sons and her sisters and her family affairs; that I stalk her on Facebook but don't talk directly to her anymore. Then I kind of shook out of it. I regret those things only in silly past-tense. Through the filter of today, I wish I had done things differently months ago, and that is unfair. I don't regret the fun she, her sister, and I had my wedding day. I don't regret how I trusted her completely until about a month ago, and she didn't trust me the same way. I don't regret being friends, I just regret how it ended, and how flawed she seems to me now. I regret not seeing the signs for what they were months ago, and for blaming my brother for the money that was missing. I am so proud of the man he's becoming.
It's the end of the year. I do not walk forward with no regrets, I walk forward hoping to learn from my mistakes. Maybe it will help me be a better friend and wife.
In fact, the day before my former friend got fired, I watched a very inspirational video about living with regrets, and NOT regretting regrets. (TED Talk)
God sends amazing things my way. I had no idea how much I would need that in the next few days, or how blessed I would be by the song "It Is Well With My Soul."
Those first few days after I lost B were tough. I felt so betrayed and hurt and foolish, but I didn't doubt that the mistakes were hers, not mine, as was the broken trust and hurt. My husband pointed out he's a better judge of character than I am, and he didn't see her doing what she did. No one did. That's what made it so tough.
Back to regrets: for a brief moment, I regretted almost every good thing about this year. I regretted B was my Maid of Honor in my wedding, and that we shared so much of those happy moments earlier this year. I regretted that still I care about her sons and her sisters and her family affairs; that I stalk her on Facebook but don't talk directly to her anymore. Then I kind of shook out of it. I regret those things only in silly past-tense. Through the filter of today, I wish I had done things differently months ago, and that is unfair. I don't regret the fun she, her sister, and I had my wedding day. I don't regret how I trusted her completely until about a month ago, and she didn't trust me the same way. I don't regret being friends, I just regret how it ended, and how flawed she seems to me now. I regret not seeing the signs for what they were months ago, and for blaming my brother for the money that was missing. I am so proud of the man he's becoming.
It's the end of the year. I do not walk forward with no regrets, I walk forward hoping to learn from my mistakes. Maybe it will help me be a better friend and wife.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Ask Me Anything
"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
It's weird to lose a close friend at this point in life.
There are so many things it wasn't, and one echoing, painful thing it was.
"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
She lives life with no regrets, that one. Well, none she will admit to anyway.
I keep coming back to the same scab: I thought we were better friends than that. I don't understand her reaction to being caught on camera.
So. Open Book, here are my questions for you:
How long were you doing it?
Was it just her wallet?
What was the most you pulled at one time?
Did it make you feel better, leaving the small bills behind?
How many compartments did you check?
Did you enjoy it while it lasted?
Did it give you a thrill?
Did it make you sick inside that you got caught?
Do you have a drug problem?
Are you mentally ill?
Do you really think everyone else is stupid?
OB, I have news for you, honey: stealing cash from your boss's wallet isn't "losing your job;" you RAN SCREAMING from your job. You couldn't have worked harder to lose that job if you stripped naked in broad daylight and ran streaking in front of customers. At least then we would know you were just mentally ill, and you could go seek help
"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
Never mind. Hoping for honest answers out of such an accomplished liar is just a waste of time.
It's weird to lose a close friend at this point in life.
There are so many things it wasn't, and one echoing, painful thing it was.
"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
She lives life with no regrets, that one. Well, none she will admit to anyway.
I keep coming back to the same scab: I thought we were better friends than that. I don't understand her reaction to being caught on camera.
So. Open Book, here are my questions for you:
How long were you doing it?
Was it just her wallet?
What was the most you pulled at one time?
Did it make you feel better, leaving the small bills behind?
How many compartments did you check?
Did you enjoy it while it lasted?
Did it give you a thrill?
Did it make you sick inside that you got caught?
Do you have a drug problem?
Are you mentally ill?
Do you really think everyone else is stupid?
OB, I have news for you, honey: stealing cash from your boss's wallet isn't "losing your job;" you RAN SCREAMING from your job. You couldn't have worked harder to lose that job if you stripped naked in broad daylight and ran streaking in front of customers. At least then we would know you were just mentally ill, and you could go seek help
"I'm an open book; ask me anything."
Never mind. Hoping for honest answers out of such an accomplished liar is just a waste of time.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Taking it Personally
I lost a best friend today. She didn't do anything convenient like get hit by a truck, but she did get caught doing something understandable but unforgivable. She broke my sense of trust in her completely, and I sobbed. So like any adult, I came home and cried on my husband's shoulder and listened to Bayside and howled along with a sniffly nose and red eyes.
I wish I could say I don't understand the emotions I'm going through, and that I'm stuck in a fog. I've grown up a little since high school, though, and understand that what I feel are betrayal; disappointment; sadness; hurt; disbelief... I feel foolish for believing the lie for so long, and for thinking we were such good friends. This feels like a breakup, but I have a supportive husband to hold me while I cry.
I might be there tomorrow when the police report gets filed, and when her boss - my mom - explains to the officer that my parents don't want to press charges, and are just filing the report as a part of the process. I might watch her pack her stuff, and watch my dad changes the locks and the alarm codes.
Or I might stay home and chill for the day.
I wish I could say I don't understand the emotions I'm going through, and that I'm stuck in a fog. I've grown up a little since high school, though, and understand that what I feel are betrayal; disappointment; sadness; hurt; disbelief... I feel foolish for believing the lie for so long, and for thinking we were such good friends. This feels like a breakup, but I have a supportive husband to hold me while I cry.
I might be there tomorrow when the police report gets filed, and when her boss - my mom - explains to the officer that my parents don't want to press charges, and are just filing the report as a part of the process. I might watch her pack her stuff, and watch my dad changes the locks and the alarm codes.
Or I might stay home and chill for the day.
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