Once upon a time, I had a friend. She was so much more than a friend to me. We were sisters, confidantes, agony aunts, mutual admiration society presidents and everything else that we could conceivably need in each other. We were different, and yet so alike that it made me wonder if somehow this connection had been celestially planned. Her presence made life so much better than tolerable, made home a lot less far away. Everything was peachy, or, well, as ok as it could possibly be.
Then, one day, I hurt myself a little bit. Wasn't too serious, just a scratch....or, atleast, it looked like a scratch. It didn't really pain me all that much, but then you know us attention freaks. Give us an inch and we'll take an entire universe. So I looked to my friend for attention, a little mollycoddling, a little bit of reassurance and nothing more. But she saw it differently. She was of the opinion that the cut was deeper than it looked. "C'mon, put some ointment on it rightaway, or it'll get infected and you'll be in so much more trouble". Good, sound advice. The only trouble was that I was so scared of the sting of the ointment that I preferred to let the wound fester, to hurt a little bit everyday rather than to burn me up all at once and then leave me healed, but shaken. So I told her, in everyway that I could, that I wouldn't be acting on her counsel. That did it for her. She was so convinced of my pig-headedness and my lack of resolve in dealing with life head on that she decided that she needed time off from us, maybe to make me realize that her way made eminently more sense than mine did.
So you went away, and kept away. Your way is better, maybe, than mine can ever be. Maybe your idea of being Sangy is superior to my lived reality of it. Maybe if you were me, you'd do a much better job of being me than I am doing right now. Maybe I'm being cowardly, and stupid, and maybe I am messing up my life. But that's just the point. I AM Sangy, and I'm doing the very best I can to be the best possible me. I love you for how much you care, and I wish that it were as easy for me to walk away, even temporarily.
Its not that I like punishment, or that I think misery is glamorous. Its not that I crave your pity, or even that I don't know that better alternatives are available to me. Its just this much. I'm living this life because I want to, I'm making these choices because I think that they're sensible. I respect your opinion, but I cannot be bound to it. I cannot be your friend on the conditionality of taking your advice, no matter how well-intentioned and reasonable it is. I need this space to be me, and you have to respect this, because I extend that very same respect to you. We all would live each others' lives differently if we had the choice, but the point is that we don't.....so please, don't grudge me my foolishness. I've got only one lifetime to be stupid. Please let me have it, with you in it, because without you I would just be so unimaginably poor..