They were very down about it, and I didn't understand their sadness at first. I bade my last farewell to one on Saturday, then another on Monday. Smiled, felt a twinge, but moved on.
But last night. Ah. I suddenly understood the implications of my entire support network disappearing in one go. At the same time, I'm trying to be active in two newer communities, to start fresh, but feel that my initial efforts aren't quite working out.
I thought it would be more difficult for them, because they were heading into virtually unknown territory, both leaving behind THEIR support networks. So I purposely hardened-the-fuck-up and made like it was no big deal. Partially for their sake. You know how people feel that they should be resilient in the face of another's loss. Playing a role as it were.
But then I realised how they must feel. Understood their trepidation. And remembered that I don't warm to people easily either and it will take me a very long time to find friendships of a similar ilk.
I can't trust someone unless I've revealed hideous secrets about myself and witnessed their reaction. The irony is that I hate it when people do that to me. Tell me shocking secrets about their life, sit back, watch to see how I take it, then judge me on whether I'll be a good friend or not. It feels manipulative, sneaky and offers a skewed power balance. Especially when I've only met them for the first time!
But it's really a defense mechanism for people who don't quite know who to trust and have learned the hard way NOT to.
I connect with people who feel displaced and are always escaping, running, physically or emotionally or ideologically... because I do it too.
I just don't feel as though I have any other options.
Jane said it felt like a funeral. I laughed it off.
I understand what she means now.
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