If you saw me again,
If our divided paths suddenly crossed once more,
If you had a chance to,
Would you say hello?
Or would you speak goodbyes you never said?
Would you be a different person than the one who left me for dead?
I took this picture at the Whitney Museum of Art (the new one down by the Highline Elevated Park here in NYC, not the old Upper East Side one).
I think a lot about certain people and I’m starting to realize they don’t really deserve that kind of attention anymore.
Recently, they disappeared. Not that I don’t know where they went. I do. But it’s the fact that they chose their pride over me that hurts the most. They couldn’t let go of this backwards mentality, their white knight complexes, that someday they could bring time back to what it was in an era of college they believed to be their most golden days.
That’s just it though. If you’re so caught up trying to restore life to what it WAS, you’ll never ever get to experience what it could be.
The truth is, I lost some of my closest friends to fear. Fear of judgment, change, of not being recognized as the “top dogs” anymore. But you do yourself a huge disservice by choosing to stay in that place. Because as many achievements as you had at some point, like trophies, they too will lose their meaning and shine if you don’t continually strive for better.
Contrary to popular belief, there is a comfort zone in fear that people don’t realize they’ve put themselves in. They’d rather be kept at bay by their own uncertainties, and put all their energy into talking but no action.
I used to love their storytelling — it’s what pushed me to be their friend and do life with them in the first place. But somewhere along the way, they stopped making new stories and kept retelling old ones. They were disillusioned and disheartened but any amount of push and pull, they fought me back. They didn’t want to hear stories that weren’t theirs.
I miss them but even talking to them now hurts. Have you ever watched someone you love lose themselves TO themselves?
I can’t watch anymore.
So if you’re going to keep looking for gold, at least do yourself a favor and keep digging. Stop giving up the minute you start to sweat.
Because even if you aren’t willing to try hard enough to fix things with me, the next person who becomes a part of your life the way I did deserves so much better than that.