I know what my problem is.
I shut people out. I don't allow myself to get emotionally attached to anyone. I'm afraid to come off as weak.
Why? Because as soon as I do, that person will be gone.
When I was a young, so young I can't even remember, my father left us. My mom always tells me how he didn't treat us right and how his own friends even noticed. My mom took us and started a new life for us. A life without my father. A life my father clearly enjoyed.
At first he would visit us all the time and call almost everyday. He'd be there for Christmas, New Years, Birthdays, even small things like if one of us got sick. But eventually he stopped. He stopped calling, visiting, and he stopped caring.
At that point I was old enough to know what was going on. He had become a drunk, a smoker and someone who couldn't get enough of partying. We, his own family, didn't even matter to him anymore.
I was attached, too far in and was
crushed.
He'd call...sometimes. He'd visit...rarely. He'd care...enough to send money. Other than that, he was barely my father. More like a stranger.
Thankfully I was young and was able to trust again.
Fast forward to Junior High. My first year of Junior High I met a girl. We can call her Jennifer. We instantly became friends and in no time were best friends. We'd go to the mall every weekend and I'd spend the night at her house every other weekend. If I had a problem I'd call her crying and she was always there to comfort me. She didn't judge me and never made me feel bad about myself. Jennifer, to this day, was the best friend I had ever had. One day I got a call from her saying that shes moving. I was speechless. She was moving to Indiana. Far,
far away from where we lived at the time. She moved that summer. We kept in touch for about a year and then we never saw each other again. She was my best friend, and she left me. She left my life.
Through all of this my other "best friend" Eva was mad at me, for a good two months. Why? I have no idea. One day she just refused to talk to me. I'd beg her to talk to me, work things out. But she refused to even be in the same room as me. It hurt me so much that she didn't care. I had no one to talk to.
I'd lost Eva and Jennifer. And soon I'd lose someone else.
My Uncle had been suffering from Bacterial Meningitis for about a year and a half. He was always in unbearable pain, screaming for his life, praying the pain would end. At one point he lost his sight. We knew the end was near. When it happened--when he died--I didn't even cry. Didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say or how to feel. My mom broke the news to me. I was quiet for a moment and then I said "how?" Apparently the doctors found him dead in his hospital bed. This is the man that lived with us for years. Since I could remember! He was my father-figure. In my mind, he replaced my father. The man I loved so much and he too, like my dad, Eva, and Jennifer, left me.
Another two years passed. Eva and I became friends again, but now she's a slut. At this point she didn't give two shits about me. She was head over heels for this guy in our school called Kevin. Some guy who made his way through life thinking only with his penis. Anytime he was around, it's like I wasn't. She'd give him handjobs during class, expose herself to him. She practically said to him "I'm here, take advantage of me. Make me worthless" And that's exactly what he did.
I'd try to tell her that he wasn't right for her. That she's gorgeous and she deserved better. She'd get mad at me, ignore me and talk bad about me to her other friends. "Minty's a virgin, she doesn't understand, she's too religious, she'll never do anything" Words can't explain how much it hurt.
I was trying to help
her and she rejected me.
As much as it hurt me to see I was slowly losing my best friend, I also knew I didn't want to feel this way again. I didn't want to feel the way I did when I got that call from Jennifer, I didn't want to feel the way I did the night I begged Eva to talk to me and she refused. I didn't want that horrible feeling I had when my Uncle passed. And I definitely didn't want to feel the way I did on the first birthday I spent without a father.
I learned to shut out my feelings and avoid feeling them at all. The more I shut people out the easier it became to deal with things. The less I was hurt, the easier things were. It hurts to hold it all in, but I can't be vulnerable. I've been hurt too many times and I refuse to feel that way again.
