The internet is a fickle place. About 5-ish years ago I met my first “friends” from blogging. We kept in touch and grew close. Then we faded away as they quit blogging and our lives took us in different directions. Most of us stayed in touch for the most part, there for the important parts of life.
I changed from the annoying teenager into an adult and along the way my writing changed. I no longer shared every thought, secret, and idea with the internet. My relationship with Vahid played a part in all this. I blogged here and there and became more about my life rather than my fears or personal details. I blogged trips and adventures, little things, more superficial than they used to be.
That’s when I started to see the change in my “friends.” Some were happy for me, others were angry or convinced I was making wrong choices for my life. The first year with Vahid was a whirlwind of amazing times and being very hurt by people I knew.
People I thought I knew and people I didn’t judged me. Some were bold enough to tell Vahid that he was making a mistake. I was a mistake.
It’s been years and in those years I’ve made and lost numerous friends, some online and some not. I keep myself guarded a lot more than I used to, although I am still too open, too easily hurt.
I get jealous of people’s seemingly easy friendships. See their pictures and wonder why I can’t have friends like that. But then I think I’m glad I don’t, too many times that’s been pulled out from under me.
It’s forced me to give up on so much childish thoughts. We aren’t friends. I no longer think people I’ve met once are friends of mine. I think that was the hardest change to make. I was always the loner kid, too awkward or loud to make many friends. Then when people started knowing who I was, I felt some kind of belonging. After all the internet is just a bigger version of high school, even wants to belong.
I was thinking about all this today and how I think, for the first time since I started blogging I am comfortable in my own skin. I’m okay with my mistakes, ignorance, and going a month without posting. I’m okay that I am not friends with most of the people I was friends with when this started. I’m okay with the fact that I will never be a part of a “blog circle” again. I don’t want to be.
Sometimes I have a sting of jealousy that friendship isn’t an easy thing for me. But if it was easy, I wouldn’t have the friends I do today. I’ve learned to life a life outside of my bubble. When I was 19, everything was blogging or twittering or flickring. Every thought went somewhere for someone to read. I craved that acceptance.
I’m happy where life took me. I’m happy making memories and knowing it’s okay if I don’t write about what I did that day. I’m happy not worry about posts with zero comments or making sure I comment on the “right” people’s blogs (you know to maintain that “friendship.”)
I suppose I’ve been feeling nostalgic for everything. I’ve been meaning to email an old friend back and now she’s changed her number and I had a thought that we might not be friends a year from now. Life drags us away and hometown friends don’t always stay friends forever. This got me thinking about other friends I’ve had and then that led to this blog post that is entirely too long now.
Now? I’m just me, trying to juggle my own dreams and ambitions with the person I love and his dreams. Sometimes I share that, but mostly it’s just mine.