I was lucky this year to end things on a good note with a lot of people. Three things that I'm mainly thankful for is that I managed to end the year on a good note with Maze, Helena and Pri. I learned a lot this school year about accepting things that I have no power to change. And, as usual, after a lesson, there's a test.
Previous post was about how angry I was because I have no power whatsoever to make any of you see things the way I see it. I stand by what I've said in the past which was that the world would be a better place if more people thought the things that I think, the way that I think. If people took the chance that they've been given and used their brains and their mouths together to fully exercise their freedom of speech. If people would give out constructive criticism, no matter how hurtful it is. But that's not within the realm of probability. It is actually very, very highly unlikely and dare I say, impossible. This post is about me being sad and resigned.
Because what can I do, really? There is nothing I can say or do anymore and I've wasted a whole year, one whole year, thinking about a past I can never get back. Thinking about a person whom I still badly, badly, badly wanted to be friends with but she died. She grew out of her old skin, grew a new one, a thicker one. And she's better for it, you can see. And I'm better for being where I am today.
Throughout these few weeks, people have been talking to me about 'being the bigger person', whether it was me who should (wrongfully, because I should have rightfully apologized) be the bigger person in the scenario and apologize, or whether it was her, Nadiah, who should be the bigger person. And I wasn't blindsided or anything, it wasn't out of left field. It was something bone-deep, that you could tell but never really wanted to acknowledge, if that made any sense. But anyways, all that crap about being the bigger person? Irrelevant. Because maybe neither of us are meant to be the bigger person. Maybe I'm just a person and she's just a person, too.
A little bit ironic, though, to be standing here, on this end of the argument. To be treated the way I treated certain people last year. How every time I would wake up and say, "This is it. This really is the final straw." How I would tell people that I can't stand it anymore, that I can't stand being friends with her anymore. If my life was a television show, I think viewers would complain that this particular parallel was a little too on the nose. I'm a different person, though, and Nadiah's a different person. So she's not going to wake up and feel the exact same things I felt or am feeling.
And that, in itself, is a lesson for me. That people are different and if I preach the acceptance of certain minority groups despite their differences, then I would be a right hypocrite to not accept other people for their differences, friends or not, regardless of any hard feelings.
The first thing that entered my mind was that it was a stupid thing to think, to be tired of someone, to run away and not fight, and not tell me, instead, what you have against me. But then again, the whole fight or flight thing is really actually quite subjective. So I am nobody to condemn you for your opinions because those types of things, stay or run away, they exist in a completely gray area outside of most people's actual moral code. So now, I don't know. It's not even a 'ball's in your court' type of situation. There is no ball, for one thing.
I wasted a whole year only to be shot down every other week. And she- she still cares, I guess. Because there are the little things. I'm not you, Nadiah. I don't know how to wake up one morning and decide I can't be friends with someone anymore. Every time I think, every single time, I always go back on my vows and occasionally end up actually (figuratively) begging on my knees. But it's not a question of right or wrong. I myself am confused as to whether it's better to let go or to stay and fight for something you want.
You can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one. I guess there is that.