Forcing a Friendship is worse than Letting It Go.
My mother always said to be nice, but being nice is easier than being a friend.
And maybe not being friends will make it possible for me to be nicer.
I have finally realized that you are not worth it – not my time, not my happiness.
I’m sitting in a campus café, overhearing conversations about classes, jobs, internships, etc.
I’m feeling inferior – I am definitely not taking as many classes, not applying to excessively time demanding positions, not doing as much. Period.
But then I step back and drown out the noise.
I have to stop and remind myself:
Grade point averages don’t define my worth (sometimes I wish they did)
The number of classes I am tackling this semester does not define my intelligence.
We all have different talents, work habits, interests.
We all have different plans, world-views, strategies.
We need to stop comparing ourselves to everyone around us –
We need to be the best we can be;
We need to give everything we do a hundred percent,
Success is the reward for effort and perseverance,
Achieve your own goals at your own pace – you’ll be surprised at what you’re capable of.
Listen to your mind, body, heart: Only you know what’s best for you.
Your happiness is yours.
You can keep it, hide it, share it, give it away.
But I suggest you keep it.
Hold onto it as long as you can.
If you hide it – you might forget exactly where you placed it.
If you share it – a fragment of your Happiness will no longer belong to only you.
If you give it away – there is no guarantee that the recipient will value it, because your happiness is best understood and most effective when it belongs to you.
And if you love someone, encourage them to find theirs – whatever that may consists of.
I’m constantly surrounded by people, and this tends to inhibit my ability to think clearly about things I want to think about. So, today, I had dinner with myself.
I sat in the balcony with my favorite Italian pasta dish from a small restaurant down the street.
I faced San Francisco and the setting sun.
The beauty of it all overwhelmed me.
It was chilly and bright and quiet –
The cool wind kept me company and drew me back to reality every time my mind drifted too far.
And I liked it.
I realized that lately I have become so critical of myself.
I have let failures fracture my self-esteem and confidence.
I have let stressful situations and insecurities break my convictions in the beauties of life.
My little date with myself and my thoughts made me love myself more.
It made me sure of who I am and what I want to do.
It made me forgive myself and others –
It gave me the opportunity to fall in love with my life again.
Life is not easy. I think we all learn that very quickly in the process of growing up.
But oh my God, it is so beautiful –
And I’ve spent too long doubting, criticizing, over-analyzing everything.
I’m at peace – with the world, with my struggles, with the hurdles I must jump to get to where I need to be.
I’m giving everything I care for one hundred percent of my effort,
But I’m setting higher standards for the way I treat myself.
And I don’t know if you know that I miss you.
I miss my summer visits, when we’d eat brunch just you and I.
I miss our late night conversations, over milk and pie.
I miss you laughing at my fear of bugs and spiders.
I miss your stupid dog – you know, the one who would growl and show me his perfect teeth.
I miss you teaching me to ride your horse.
I miss the way you hid my bike so nobody else would take it.
I miss your big, calloused hands waving in the air telling me stories of the past.
I miss your radiant smile, and how your blue blue eyes shined when you spoke.
I miss the way you said goodbye – so kind, so gentle, so quiet, yet so full of love.
If anybody has taught me what it is to love, without having to say “I love you,” it was you.
We all felt so much love, even through the distance.
We all felt important, exciting, intelligent, and good enough in that house you built,
We all feel blessed, to have had such an amazing, strong, brave, and wise man in our lives.
Thank you, Grandpa, for making my life better
Thank you for teaching me to seek happiness, even when life is bitter.
I miss you, Grandpa. You were and always will be my hero. <3
Rest in peace.
“Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” – Confucius
I came across this quote on Tumblr – a website I love, but one that has never encouraged me to write. I sat alone in my cold, dark room thinking about forgiveness and revenge. I have always been a proponent of forgiving, learning, and moving on. But this idea of “revenge” has always sparked some curiosity in my being. Growing up, I was always told to not seek revenge, because it leads to a cycle of injury and retaliation. Nonetheless, a little voice in my head still occasionally screams “Get him back! You can do this and this and this….They’ll know exactly how you feel. Ohh, you can teach them!” Does this make me a bad person? I don’t think so. We’re only human. But there’s a reason that society and most religions teach forgiveness – because it is what we need to live with ourselves and others in a world that is constantly pushing us to our limits.
Revenge is not a solution. It doesn’t make anybody feel good in the long run. It fractures friendships, breaks hearts, and paves the way to feelings of guilt, depression, and pain. Revenge is a symbol of the lack of self-control, and it arises out of our inability to accept the fact that everybody makes mistakes.
“To err is human, to forgive – divine.” – Alexander Pope
So I encourage you, dear reader, to forgive. Not to pretend that nothing is wrong, not to hug the person that has hurt you, not to forget. I encourage you to forgive – because that’s the only way to save yourself from being hurt by the same betrayal more than once. Forgiveness is the only way to move on – with peace, serenity, and self-confidence. Forgiveness is the only way out of painful thoughts and situations – it frees your mind and stitches up the tears within your heart. Forgiveness provides us with the ability to think clearly – to make rational choices about what comes next.
“Forgiving and being forgiven are two names for the same thing. The important thing is that a discord has been resolved.” ~ C.S. Lewis
I guess the way to get a million followers is to write about exciting things that the majority of bloggers/blog readers find either witty, funny, and/or insightful.
These posts should also probably include a disproportionate amount of photographs, a few words, and probably a numbered list of some sort. Also, pure entertainment should be the primary goal of every post. Nobody really likes to talk about things that matter, because they are so afraid of disagreement and debate. Everyone is afraid to hurt everyone else’s feelings, and “attack” everyone else’s beliefs. The internet is known to be this great source of knowledge and a significant manifestation of progress. But oh my God, when did we become so shallow? When did moral relativism and dismissal of this idea of “truth” become so widely accepted. Don’t we care about our beliefs? Don’t we care about the values of others? What’s the point of believing in anything, if we go around saying things like: “We’ll never know the truth, so we might as well drop this argument”? Sure, it’s fine to believe in different things, and sure, we may never know the answers to many of our questions. But by rejecting the existence of truth, aren’t we also dismissing our own personal beliefs?
Personal beliefs are sensitive issues, but by no means are belief systems the only topics of shallow discourse online. Let’s take celebrity Twitter accounts. A celebrity says something offensive [I’m sure you can think of many of these occurrences, and therefore I won’t list names] about either politics, socio-economic issues, a TV show, another celebrity, etc. and fans go nuts. Social media sites have brought celebrities closer to their fans, but have also forced the people involved to put on facades. Celebrities who say things the majority of people do not like later apologize or have to have some big-time interview explaining why they said what they said. The problem, though, is not in these celebrities. It’s in the fans. Why are fans constantly criticizing successful human beings? Why must these humans beings think and talk in such a way as to not offend anybody? Why do we expect public figures to be “better” than regular citizens? We want to see these stars as real life people, but we really hate when they aren’t perfect and say things that we don’t like. But most importantly, why are we so afraid of allowing people to voice the things they truly think, regardless of whether or not we think their opinions are correct? Why are we so sensitive?
There are many people out there who have world views that you and I may find to be absolutely ridiculous, yet it is ignorant to silence them: because they exist.
And when views exist they have power, regardless of whether or not they adhere to our standards.
Why are we so afraid of our own thoughts?
Why do we fear our own humanity?
Note: This is a personal story, and sharing it makes me feel even more awful for breaking a heart. I hope I can forgive myself one day, just like he forgave me. I apologize for the cheesiness in this story beforehand, but this was one of the many lessons in my life that has taught me to seek pure happiness- the kind that comes from within, rather than the “happiness” that is defined for us by society, by our friends, and by our own insecurities.
There once was a boy.
He was wonderful, witty, funny, and charming.
He was from a well to-do family.
He was tall, handsome, and very sweet.
He spoke my language, he understood my culture, he knew my family.
I was visiting family in a small, small town where everybody knew everybody else.
I met him randomly, he was on his motorcycle.
I was awkward, skinny, and jet lagged.
He was good friends with my girl friends, and he shook my hand and said, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I smiled and laughed, and said I needed to go, but that I’d probably see him around.
Later that day, I was surprised by him visiting my friend’s house [where I was at].
He showed up with a bouquet full of hand-picked field daisies – my absolute favorite.
He smiled and gave them to me, and said, “I saw these and I thought of how I met you earlier this day, and wanted to give them to you as a welcoming gift. Hope you enjoy your time here.”
And with that, he drove away.
My friends giggled, and said that he’s just a gentleman.
We became friends, he would call, we would hang out with our mutual friends.
We were just friends, just friends, just friends.
But he liked me, and everyone knew, but there were complications.
He had a girlfriend. Her name was Victoria.
She was bossy, and mean, and she didn’t treat him well.
But she was his girlfriend, and I didn’t want to interfere.
He left her. He said she didn’t appreciate all that he did for her.
He was tired and he knew she wasn’t the kind of girl he wanted to be with.
He was so nice to me, so very nice.
He would get me flowers randomly, he would bring me ice cream from my favorite place, even though they closed before 2 in the morning.
He was sweet, and he liked me, and he gave me more attention than I’ve ever even wanted.
And I liked it, not him, but the attention.
He liked my curly hair, and asked me not to straighten it, or “whatever you do to it.”
He liked my awkwardness, my laugh, my random singing.
He didn’t think I was too skinny.
He didn’t mind my pickiness with food, my indecisiveness, my fears.
He was always, always there when I needed him to be.
And he liked all the things I myself hated about myself.
He made me feel like the most important person in the world.
He was a keeper – that’s what they all said.
But I didn’t like him.
I liked that he fit the criteria I had for a future boyfriend.
He fit it so well.
I liked the attention he gave me, how he was proud of me in front of his friends.
I liked that he was a nice guy.
I liked everything about him, but I didn’t like him.
So I pretended to like him.
I thought maybe one day I would actually like him.
He told me he loved me,
I smiled and hugged him and didn’t say it back.
A few weeks later, he asked me if I felt that way about him,
Since I never said “I love you” back.
So I didn’t know what to do, and I had never loved a boy before,
And thought – maybe this is love and that’s all there is to it..
So, I let the lie come out of my mouth – I love you.
He was happy, and I was happy that he was happy.
And maybe this was forever, but I was confused.
I didn’t love him, I knew that, but what if I never found anybody better than him to love me.
And I really knew that he truly loved me.
But after a few months, and some distance – we fell apart.
Or, rather, my pretending fell apart.
He would call every day, he was sweet and hopeful and everything I could have ever asked for.
But I told him that we couldn’t do this anymore.
He asked me if there was somebody else, and there really wasn’t anybody else.
I told him he was perfect, that he couldn’t have loved me better.
I told him that it wasn’t his fault, it was honestly me.
And this was the most truthful I had every been with him.
But I don’t think he believed me – He thought there was someone else, he thought it was his fault, he thought all of my kind breaking-this-up words were just attempts to make him feel better.
But I was truthful, and I honestly knew he deserved someone who could return his love and kindness.
I wanted to at least LIKE him, and I tried really hard to, but I just didn’t.
And I don’t know why, but I guess that sometimes Mr. Meets-My-Criteria is not always Mr. Right.
We parted ways, he was still a sweetheart.
He’d call on my birthday, on Christmas, and sometimes randomly a few times a month.
We would talk about life, we would laugh about good memories, we were just friends.
But in his good-byes I knew it wasn’t okay.
He wasn’t okay, and I really, really needed him to be okay.
I broke his heart. He told me that.
I saw him a year later, and he hugged me, told me I looked better than ever.
He asked if I would have tea and dessert with him that day.
I figured that that was the least I could do for him.
I apologized. I said I needed to do it in person, rather than on the phone.
He asked me to stop, he said he forgave me a long time ago.
He said he wished that things didn’t end the way they did,
He said he wished things just didn’t end at all.
I said that I was surprised he didn’t hate me,
He said, “Honey, I could never hate you.”
I almost cried. He was too nice to me.
We dropped the topic of “us” and talked about other stuff.
He said he’d dated a few girls, and that they couldn’t compare with me.
I laughed, and told him that that was ridiculous.
He laughed, and thanked me for changing his standards.
It was a nice evening, with an old friend whose heart I broke.
He took me home, and I asked him to please forget about me.
He looked sad, really sad. He said he wouldn’t forget, but that he was learning to let go.
He wished me luck and happiness in my current relationship, and he was sincere.
He finally let go. He has found happiness. We’re both happy.
But I have yet to forgive myself for breaking a heart that was so kind to me.
And from this I learned a lesson:
I learned to trust my instincts.
I learned that you can’t force yourself to love someone.
I learned that just because someone is amazing, they may not be for me to keep.
I learned that being truthful is important, always.