There are days that I wake up and I’m not really sure what I’m doing. I’ve always been one for order and for plans. I had a plan for everything, getting out of high school, getting out of P-ville, getting out of my adoptive family’s house, getting friends, finding myself, building my life…pretty much name something and I had a plan for it. I sped through a huge part of life, focusing on my plans, my plans for a bigger, better life that somehow blissfully avoided the nasty bits of life, but yet were always seemingly disrupted and some times derailed by those nasty bits in life.

I had signed almost all of my paperwork for another year in SMOE and then I woke up one morning and thought I didn’t want this (that meaning life as an expat, living out of a suitcase year by year, not having a concrete support of friends, making friends with random people that I won’t really become friends with back home, etc.) any or all of this. So I turned in my resignation letter (and in the process burned whatever chance I had a working with SMOE ever again in the future, but if I do live abroad again…Europe here I come again). And there was peace in my at times chaotic life.

Fast forward and as much as things have stayed the same, things have drastically changed. Gone were the people I thought I knew, thought were my friends, thought that I could depend on, instead were people for the most part didn’t even rate me in their personal top thousand. I mean someone I thought for the last four years as a friend, walked out of the room when I entered without saying hi to me, walked into the room when I walked out to talk to her, said she was leaving to get me to go away but stayed when I left. She also couldn’t say hi to a mutual friend as long as I was in the vicinity. Charming, right? Then there’s another friend, if you asked me four months ago (before I came back to the States), who would always be my friend, she would have been right at the top of the list…that was four months ago and life once again changed. That’s four months, several late or unreturned phone calls, texts, messages, you name it. That’s four months of ‘oh I too uber busy to hang out with you and I don’t know when I won’t be uber busy…but in reality I have oodles of time to hang out with everyone that is not you, unless it’s a group invite, then I’ll invite you, but it’s a group invite.’ So I guess it’s only cool to be my friend when I don’t live in America, than I have an air of mystique to be cool and friendable.

I’ve never had what one would call a stable home life, I’m not going to bore strangers with it, but that made my friends that much more important to me. So it hurts so much while this experience of chameleon friendship happens. Although I haven’t been lucky in that department as much as I would like, my friends mean the world to me, because they are my family. Not to be cliche-ish but they are, over the years when reality hit me over the head with what my “home” life really is, I’ve had friends to turn to. Who I could depend on when there was no one at home to turn to. The world can be lonely if you let it, because of what I’ve seen and experience am very wary of people, but when I let people in, I let people in, and it greatly hurts when I realize that I let the wrong people in. Friendship isn’t a one-way street, one person shouldn’t be the one to make all the calls, texts, messages, offers, etc. there should be an equal desire to be friends. Everyone has something(s) going on in their lives and sometimes they just need to spend time with friends to get their minds off of things, but when there’s seemingly only one in their phone book who will return, you start getting a bit guilty over talking to that one friend.

What was I thinking when I moved back to the States? I’m not really sure. Part of me had a much rosier picture than it’s turned out to be. But I did think that I had better friends than what I’ve come to realize that I have. Because I thought that finally I had learned to be a good judge of character and made lasting friends. Guess it’s back to the drawing board for me, right?


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