there’s burning bridges…and then there’s lighting them ablaze and incinerating them, leaving a smoldering pile of ashes and no chance of ever going back.
I’m good at that.
relationships worth a damn scare the hell out of me. there’s a lot of pressure involved, I feel–pressure to be a good half of a pair. pressure to take good care of that person’s heart…to stay well and healthy and sane and in one piece because they care about me, even if I don’t. so to avoid the pressure, to avoid potentially hurting somebody…I just go ahead and avoid close relationships.
every relationship serves a purpose, for both people. so what happens when one person changes, and the relationship no longer fits?
I changed for the better, am changing for the better. recovery can only make me a stronger, healthier, more complete person. but I can’t fully enjoy it when it came at the expense of a friendship that at times held me together and kept me alive.
at the same time: how can I cling to a relationship that deteriorated when I started to leave my eating disorder behind? what does that tell me about that relationship? about the person I was in that relationship?
I’m the one who changed. and I severed ties, became gradually distant to the point where we were like strangers. so what right do I have to be hurt, to feel this incessant emptiness in the pit of my stomach? and why would I expect her to respond at all if I attempt to rebuild everything I destroyed?
I can’t go back to being the person I was five years ago, or even one year ago. and truth be told, I don’t want to be that person any more (although it’s sure as hell alluring from time to time). but I hate to think that a relationship and a person who were so important to me are completely gone from my life because of the best decision I ever made: recovery.
I’m rambling…so much going through my head. it’s freezing cold in my house, roxy just tossed her cookies, and my socks don’t match. in light of all this chaos…I think bed may be a good plan.