I have now worked 15 days in a row. I’m thinking it would be nice to take a break. I’m really looking forward to Sunday.

*sigh*

I remember last summer, when Melissa and I were talking endlessly - again - about Max. And she said something that has been with me ever since. She told me it was time I made a decision.

It goes something like this - Max walked away, and I couldn’t accept it. There had to be something I could do, something I could say, etc etc, to fix it. But (obviously) there wasn’t. Her thought on the matter was this - I would never see a bit of healing until I personally decided in my own heart that Max and I were done.

To normal, sane human beings, this makes little sense. To me, it makes worlds of sense, and it’s the scariest thing ever. It’s much easier to let other people make the decisions in regards to walking away… Partially because then I can “be” the “victim” and nurse my wounds. Partially because then I don’t have to experience the scary world of being the one who might hurt someone or make someone sad.

Always placing myself below others, in a worthy-worthless kind of way.

Finally, today, something hit me. It’s the same situation, with Mike. I don’t like being walked away from - it doesn’t sit well with me on so many different levels. I’ll dig my heels in and stubbornly hold tight with everything I have, until there’s nothing left of me.

So, after much one-sided conversing (?), I receive an e-mail from him, letting me know it’s obvious I’m not ready to “just be friends” yet.

And I went, Oh, hmm…

And it struck me how fucking parallel this situation is to so many I’ve seen in my past. Struggles for control, a broad-sweeping determination by my supposed “friend” or whatever that it was over, whatever “it” was. Demands that I accept it, move on, etc. Demands that everything be on someone else’s terms.

And I thought of my true friends. The ones who love me for who I am. Not saying they never get frustrated with me… But they don’t give me demands to meet and boxes to fit in. They don’t call me up one day and say, “Michelle, I need some time and space, being friends with you is no longer appealing to me.” You know?

If I call them, I’m not being a pest - or at least I’m not made to feel that way. And I don’t constantly feel unloved or unwanted around them.

I had flashbacks today to a time nearly a year ago when my best friend turned out to be my worst enemy. And I realize that there is no way in hell I want another “friend” like that.

How can you be friends with someone who can turn their back on you so quickly, so shockingly, it makes your head spin and your heart ache?

Do I really want to be “friends” with someone like that? Someone who doesn’t respect you at all as a fellow human being?

So, dammit, in a span of about 10 minutes, a decision was made. An e-mail reply was written, and I decided I really just don’t want to be friends with Mike. Lies, hurts, deceit, come-here-go-away attitudes are something I thought I’d finally put behind me.

Apparently I’m in need of some time off from … men. Some time to regain a sense of me. Yeah, though… how often have I said that? But, really, a sense of self-worth is finally starting to peek its head through the snows of 30 winters. And it fights my heart when I get involved with fucked-up guys. And it makes me a mess of ambivalence.

I should listen to that ambivalence more often, I think. There’s a point to it.

I don’t want to be friends with someone who can treat me like that. Really, I don’t. No matter how much fun it was to have someone to snuggle up with at night, and make out with.

My heart is more important than all that. I think I’ll wait until someone else realizes that, too. For more than a month.

Reaching for starlight,

michelle