hideko_dahlia
11-19-2004, 01:45 AM
I'm sorry to put this up here, but I have to get this out of my system right now. It's been driving me crazy for the past two years. Maybe longer. I don't know anymore. I'm not looking for sympathy, I just need someone to tell this to. I would put it up on my DA journal, but the person this is about is on my watch list-- and I'd rather her not know.
She's been driving me crazy. She's a control freak. We used to be best friends, but somehow, we split apart. It hurt. It still hurts, and I don't think it will ever stop hurting. I don't know if it can. It's hard to breathe as I write this. It's that hard to talk about. But whatever happened, she tried to control my life.
"You're such a horrible friend." "You have no emotion. You're a robot." "You are so cold. You really are the Ice Princess." "You can't wear that sweater-- it clashes with your hair." "You left me for your other friends." "You beat me." "You abused me" "You traumatised me for llife."
All those things she said to me. At first, I didn't care, because we were friends. Then, as the drifting grew more significant, it started to cut. And now it's cut deep. That year we stopped talking was stressful already, but add in the social troubles, and it was hell. We were all trying to make up for our misgivings from that year, and yelling at each other and the crying on each other's shoulders for comfort in the bathroom at school. I had finally had enough of her making fun of me and bringing me down for who I was-- I hit her. Not very hard, but she, being the drama queen she is, played it up to its fullest. I wish she would have just slapped me back, but she took everything the completely wrong way, even as I explained it. She pushed me away-- quite completely, both mentally, and physically.
We didn't talk for the next year. The most we would do was look at each other if we were in the same room. That next year, I changed schools, and she cut her hair. I had loved her hair-- it was long, and hells thick. I knew right then that we would never be friends in any sense of the word ever again. The only reason she had kept her hair long for the past two years was because I had liked it. It was her way of telling me that it was over. Forever.
Eventually, we did start to talk again. It was hard, and very formal. Nothing more than the bare minimum required of civility. And then it started getting easier. I was hopeful that we might have some sort of spark there again. But, being at a different school, I couldn't see how she really felt. That was what I was told from my other friends there. She constantly was going on and ranting about how horrible I was and how bad a friend, and how abusive, violent, mean, emotionless, and just generally bad I was. No one else from my circle of friends believed a word. And they told me about it.
It was then that I just tried giving up. I would only speak when spoken to, regarding her. I tried to stop caring. And that is a lot harder than it sounds. I couldn't do it. I couldn't stop caring about what she was up to, even after all that. It's just my nature. Unconditional love is the only love I have ever known.
She's always been an actress. She had leads in middle school, but then suddenly lost confidence in her ability and got mostly minor roles in high school. This year, senior year, she has the lead in 42nd St. Dorothy Brock-- a totally melodramatic bitch with a bad temper. Everyone, including her, knew that she only got the role because that's how she is in real life. She won't admit it that fully, but everyone else isn't slow about telling it. She doesn't have to act at all to be in character. And it was in that thread that my world crashed down.
"I got a note. Why do you think I'm like Kjirsten?"
I looked at her. Kjirsten had been our old Drama Club President, who everyone hated for being a controlling bitch; she and I both despised her. And now she was acting exactly the same way. I knew it, everyone else knew it. One of my friends had been on the brink of telling her off for me earlier that day when she went on one of her rants about me. It was a mutual feeling among my friends. But, apparently someone had told her that that was what I thought. True though it was, I couldn't respond. No one could figure out who would have told her, because almost everyone felt that same way about her and her money-flaunting, controlling, aloof ways. She thought she was better than everyone else. She still does. Especially better than me.
She looks at me like I'm a child to be tolerated, even though I'm much closer to the business world than she is. I'm also a year older. And it's not like she doesn't act childish. But it didn't matter to her.
Those words cut. Her eyes her especially accusing. I'm condemned, and I know it. At least in her eyes. I've done nothing wrong, but I can't help but feel guilty. I hate being in these arguments with her!! I just was to be friends again! I want everything to work out between us. I want the fighting and all the trouble our relationship has caused to end. I am lost on what to do. All I can do right now is cry. I've lost all hope. I don't know what to do now. I can't hate her, but I can't forgive her.
After I was done with doing makeup and hair for the play, and the play had started, I snuck out the back door of the stage and left. I couldn't stand to be there a minute longer. I cried on the way to my car. I cried in my car. I drove home, and cried. But no matter how hard I cry, the tears won't wash away this horrible feeling... I know I have to keep my head up and try to make the best of it, but it's so hard. It's not surprising to me at all, but it's still hard.
Sorry this is so long. I just needed that out. If you actually read the whole thing, I'm sorry for dumping my problems on you, but I have nowhere else to turn, and you guys are so amazing and good. I promise I'll be back to myself soon. I'm sorry for troubling you all.
She's been driving me crazy. She's a control freak. We used to be best friends, but somehow, we split apart. It hurt. It still hurts, and I don't think it will ever stop hurting. I don't know if it can. It's hard to breathe as I write this. It's that hard to talk about. But whatever happened, she tried to control my life.
"You're such a horrible friend." "You have no emotion. You're a robot." "You are so cold. You really are the Ice Princess." "You can't wear that sweater-- it clashes with your hair." "You left me for your other friends." "You beat me." "You abused me" "You traumatised me for llife."
All those things she said to me. At first, I didn't care, because we were friends. Then, as the drifting grew more significant, it started to cut. And now it's cut deep. That year we stopped talking was stressful already, but add in the social troubles, and it was hell. We were all trying to make up for our misgivings from that year, and yelling at each other and the crying on each other's shoulders for comfort in the bathroom at school. I had finally had enough of her making fun of me and bringing me down for who I was-- I hit her. Not very hard, but she, being the drama queen she is, played it up to its fullest. I wish she would have just slapped me back, but she took everything the completely wrong way, even as I explained it. She pushed me away-- quite completely, both mentally, and physically.
We didn't talk for the next year. The most we would do was look at each other if we were in the same room. That next year, I changed schools, and she cut her hair. I had loved her hair-- it was long, and hells thick. I knew right then that we would never be friends in any sense of the word ever again. The only reason she had kept her hair long for the past two years was because I had liked it. It was her way of telling me that it was over. Forever.
Eventually, we did start to talk again. It was hard, and very formal. Nothing more than the bare minimum required of civility. And then it started getting easier. I was hopeful that we might have some sort of spark there again. But, being at a different school, I couldn't see how she really felt. That was what I was told from my other friends there. She constantly was going on and ranting about how horrible I was and how bad a friend, and how abusive, violent, mean, emotionless, and just generally bad I was. No one else from my circle of friends believed a word. And they told me about it.
It was then that I just tried giving up. I would only speak when spoken to, regarding her. I tried to stop caring. And that is a lot harder than it sounds. I couldn't do it. I couldn't stop caring about what she was up to, even after all that. It's just my nature. Unconditional love is the only love I have ever known.
She's always been an actress. She had leads in middle school, but then suddenly lost confidence in her ability and got mostly minor roles in high school. This year, senior year, she has the lead in 42nd St. Dorothy Brock-- a totally melodramatic bitch with a bad temper. Everyone, including her, knew that she only got the role because that's how she is in real life. She won't admit it that fully, but everyone else isn't slow about telling it. She doesn't have to act at all to be in character. And it was in that thread that my world crashed down.
"I got a note. Why do you think I'm like Kjirsten?"
I looked at her. Kjirsten had been our old Drama Club President, who everyone hated for being a controlling bitch; she and I both despised her. And now she was acting exactly the same way. I knew it, everyone else knew it. One of my friends had been on the brink of telling her off for me earlier that day when she went on one of her rants about me. It was a mutual feeling among my friends. But, apparently someone had told her that that was what I thought. True though it was, I couldn't respond. No one could figure out who would have told her, because almost everyone felt that same way about her and her money-flaunting, controlling, aloof ways. She thought she was better than everyone else. She still does. Especially better than me.
She looks at me like I'm a child to be tolerated, even though I'm much closer to the business world than she is. I'm also a year older. And it's not like she doesn't act childish. But it didn't matter to her.
Those words cut. Her eyes her especially accusing. I'm condemned, and I know it. At least in her eyes. I've done nothing wrong, but I can't help but feel guilty. I hate being in these arguments with her!! I just was to be friends again! I want everything to work out between us. I want the fighting and all the trouble our relationship has caused to end. I am lost on what to do. All I can do right now is cry. I've lost all hope. I don't know what to do now. I can't hate her, but I can't forgive her.
After I was done with doing makeup and hair for the play, and the play had started, I snuck out the back door of the stage and left. I couldn't stand to be there a minute longer. I cried on the way to my car. I cried in my car. I drove home, and cried. But no matter how hard I cry, the tears won't wash away this horrible feeling... I know I have to keep my head up and try to make the best of it, but it's so hard. It's not surprising to me at all, but it's still hard.
Sorry this is so long. I just needed that out. If you actually read the whole thing, I'm sorry for dumping my problems on you, but I have nowhere else to turn, and you guys are so amazing and good. I promise I'll be back to myself soon. I'm sorry for troubling you all.