We had a fight the other day because of what I posted. It's no longer up, but basically I was upset over something he posted. Livid, even. Irrationally so...
Years ago, I had two friends, best friends even. I told them everything. I was in love with both of them. I dated the one briefly. The other, we dated for a year and half. I used to spend hours on the phone with one of them every night.
It's not like now. Where people have to claw and dig for every inch. I freely shared who I am, my thoughts, my passions. Everything that caught my interest and made me happy. They knew me in ways no one else ever has.
Not even with Steve. Even after everything, the bonds I shared with them (and one other, my best female friend)...they were my family. I stood by their sides through the good and the bad. For years they did the same for me.
Until it all crashed down around me. One of those guys is the one who raped me. The other guy crushed and broke my heart repeatedly for two years after we had split up. On top of that, he never believed that I was raped. That was a special sort of hell for a long time.
I've kept everyone far away from me ever since. No one was going to hurt me like that ever again. Those feelings mellowed over the years. But as the depression had faded away, those unresolved issues came back to the forefront. Those transferred to Steve because he has always reminded me of them. Because he sees me like they did. Calls out my bullshit the same ways. Helped me through some of the most difficult times of my life.
I know I've been waiting for him to hurt me. That's not fair. He's not them. Does he make mistakes? Yep. Deep down, I know he'd never intentionally hurt me. He actually wants to be around. He's one of my best friends. I'm one of his. I'm not being used or played, no matter what anyone else or my mind may tell me. And...well people are talking. They're worried about me. Wondering if Steve is up to something sketchy. I could only hear it so many times before I eventually started to wonder myself. After all, it had happened before. Why would he be any different?
That's where all of my not writing is coming from. All the crying. All the pain and anger. Everything that has been pushing Steve and anyone else I cared about away. I fell right back into old habits. No one could hurt me if I kept everyone away from me, didn't let them get close. It's not fair to Steve or anyone else.
The depression came back about a month ago. I tried to tell people. I even wrote a little about it here. But no one saw it or would listen. So I wrapped myself back up in it. Those dark, twisted, lying thoughts made everything much, much worse. I thought he was screwing with me and I'd had enough.
Thankfully he didn't give me up on me. He told me we've been though too much to throw it all away now. He's right. I say he's one of my best friends. It's time I started acting like it. Take the leap to be vulnerable, truly, because that's what friendship means. Letting someone in to see all of you, the good and bad.