I think I need to start focusing on other things a bit more, at least for now. Even some that are more for me than for others.
Still treading water, but closer to drowning than I’d like lately!
Past time I do something about it. Will be interesting to see if I actually do, though! Haha
“A bystander to the story, watching other lives play out.”
A line which caught my attention in the book I’m currently reading. It’s pretty much how I feel most of the time, but that’s not always a bad thing. I’ve always been an observer more than anything else. A passenger. I feel like I sometimes see more than most people realize, which is helpful. But it’s also isolating; distancing. Watching instead of doing doesn’t get anyone very far. So there’s that.
“Everett had never been a teenage girl – maybe there was some equivalent in the adolescent male, something that simmers under the surface of a friendship like that. But the simple truth was that when a girl like Corinne loves you, you don’t ask why. You just hope it doesn’t change.”
There’s a ton that could be discussed about this, and I love how even these few simple sentences dips below the surface to touch on the something a little extra special that happens between girl friends. It’s kind of surprising that it hasn’t been talked about nor portrayed very often in film/TV and books and the like. Well, not really surprising, I guess, given our penchant for largely ignoring the female experience in this journey through life (even I don’t talk or think about it except in terms of judging others), and even when it is highlighted, it’s often in a way that makes the girls look crazy, rebellious, lesbian, or just plain psychotic/vengeful/angry. It’s rarely just in terms of exploring the myriad of connections that female friends can make with one another, which is different from the ones they make with men, and often valued less as a result. But having mostly just observed, rather than experienced, such a thing, I feel ill-equipped to put in my two cents. Or…another two cents, as the case may be.
Plus, we don’t have pennies in Canada anymore, so I’d have to put in at least five cents, anyway.
I do know the feeling of not understanding why, nor asking why, and just hoping it doesn’t change, though. A handful of people have made me feel lucky; made me feel loved even though I’m just flawed old me. Not in a romantic way; that’s not what this is about at all. It’s a certain kind of friendship thing, one I always long for and watch for and occasionally think I’ve finally found…until it inevitably does change, and is gone. The friendship itself usually remains, in some form or other, but that something extra that made it special – that made me feel special – is lost.
Breaks my heart every time.