Nullsphere

I’ve had a couple of fights with friends recently and plenty of time to think about it since, as I’ve been away in Toulouse and traveling around quite a lot.

All in all, there are two types of fight.

The ones from which your friendship can recover, where daily pettiness battles with little white lies.

The ones from which your friendship can’t recover, which are the ones where one, or even both, try to gloss over something big.

I’ve had one of each type in the past week and some random thoughts appeared, more insight on my fucked up mind.

I am a difficult person. I don’t mind people who are difficult. I don’t even mind people who don’t contact me that often. I don’t mind people who can’t respect me for what I am. I do mind people who do not respect what I do.

Over the past three years, I’ve worked long and hard to establish myself as a serious blogger and a writer. I am just on the brink of that, for the first time. To see this compromised by the careless (in)action of one person who had promised to do something was beyond my acceptance capabilities. I may not be the best engineer in the world, or that much of a hard worker, but I have some goals, some things that I am passionate about and I won’t stand for them to be spat on.

If you can’t respect my work, get out of my life.

As for me being too violent when I deal with things like this? I never sugarcoated anything, why should I start now?

You’re a child. You have friends, you have school, you have family. Life’s simple and all you do is glide through it, gathering the pieces of your life of tomorrow.

You’re an adult. You have friends, you have loves, you have family. You’re reaping what you’ve sown as a young one, enjoying the relationships that form the canvas of your life. Then something changes and every certitude you had flies out the window like a turtledove being let out of its cage.

Watch out for the eagles, little dove, you’re not used to being in the big open spaces.

Right now, I’m sitting in front of my computer, with work files open. Am I think about my latest technical specifications that I have to deliver next week? Nope. I’m thinking about the most recent developments in my life. Those that make me upset and those that soothe me.

I’m nursing a broken heart -although why or how it was broken remains yet to be seen, as I don’t remember a whole lot about it-, broken hopes -why I chose to trust someone to build the final step to my world is beyond me- and the sadness of seeing someone leave for a while. Right now, I’ve said everything that needed said, glossed over certain facts with certain people and don’t want to talk anymore.

On Sunday, I crossed familiar paths under the snow as it fell. It made me feel icy but so calm, as the cold fingers of the sky were brushing against my face. Then Monday, the turmoil started again and swept me away in a roar of thunder and fire.

All I want is the silence of falling snow.

It’s been a while… Things haven’t been going according to plan, I’m afraid.

You see, there’s nothing I like more than having a plan. I usually have a plan A and a plan B. Right now, I’ve run through the alphabet on plans to improve my life. I have a little problem, as it were.

If food and I were to have a Facebook relationship, it would be It’s complicated. When things go bad, I tend to stick my head in the sand fridge and gorge. Right now, things are disgustingly bad and I’ve been feeling disturbingly hungry as of late. Urgh. How am I expected to fit into The Dress if I am, at the same time, having fries for lunch and crème brûlée three times a week? Hmm?

Right. If only features much in my current thoughts. If only I had been a little more careful about people, if only I had paid a little more attention in school. If only I hadn’t picked a job which sounded like a good idea. If only the people I trust with my professional life actually took me seriously. If only I hadn’t flown to the other side of the world on a whim last year.

So what do I do now? Beats me. I’m leaving myself until Christmas to try and fix things here. Probably another plane ticket in my future. Sans return date.