I feel terrible, because for a brief moment today, I inadvertently caused a rift between me and a friend. That I have become so used to relying on them in certain situations that I forget that sometimes I just barrel on through without giving them proper notice of what’s about to hit them.
I fear that I’m too selfish.
That our relationship is me taking advantage of their good nature, and that I’m the leech sucking out their lifeblood. Especially because there are few people in the world that cause me as much joy as they do, everything they send brings a smile to my face and my life has been so influenced by them, that I have forgotten times before each new thing they introduce me to.
Movies, TV shows, music, books, my taste in art has been shaped and refined over years by their input. We’ve even had scary coincedences where we start watching a favourite thing on the very same day, very same night. As if it was a strange form of destiny, just with anime, instead of, you know, true love or some other soppy thought.
The thing is that I’m now probably making more of it than there needs to be, but I overthink things. Then when I realise I’m overthinking something, I overthink it some more, just to make sure that’s exactly what I’m doing. The curse of a modern world, perhaps similar to your time, is that words linger, they last forever entombed in a digital realm. So different that it’s not commited to paper, but more eternal.
So it’ll probably be several days when I worry about whether I should be doing something differently. If I could make it better, fix it, even though it’s already been fixed. Then wonder again whether I’ve made a good choice basing so much of what I do on my life. Whether it’s a true reflection of reality or not, there’s always that question that lingers about how much of it is really…real.
How honest are the words committed to paper? Or committed to a blog or message or tweet? Perhaps less honest than I’d like, or more honest than I think they are.
Except in this case, because I honestly didn’t consider that there might be an issue. That there might be something that would cause someone any discomfort, or make them second guess our friendship in anyway.
Friends are far too precious for that.
Friends are far too precious.
You’d understand that.