Journal Entry

I think I need someone to talk to who can help me find and understand why I've grown to dislike a person so much.
Today, a friend was talking to me about how cute and sweet a person was, just as everyone else who doesn't know that person as much as I do. If only she knew the things that person has said about this friend. But, of course I wouldn't say anything. That person has enough socializing issues as it is.
This friend continued but stopped when she saw my face that read "I disagree" all over it and asked me why I was making such a face. Of course I gave her the "Nothing" answer with a tone that is really saying "It's better I keep my mouth shut."
The next thing she said made me almost fall out of my chair. She told me how much of a good friend I was and that this person and I have such a cute friendship. I wanted to run to my room, lock it, and hide forever. Apparently, I have fooled everyone.
I am not a good friend. I am worst than the worst. I'm afraid to fight and tell that person what I really think, how I actually feel. When that person hurts me, makes me angry, makes me sad. I deeply dislike this person and I hate myself even more.
My friend told me that she pitied this person. They have told someone that they are super insecure, that they think no one wants to be their friend, and that it took them up to now to finally realize that I wanted to genuinely be their friend.

I wasn't surprised at the first two comments, I've known them long enough to realize that. But that third comment really got to me, and not in a "moving" way - at least not a good way. I was a bit angry, annoyed, and irritated. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I wanted to yell. I wanted to get in my car, drive 200 miles, knock on their door and say, "Are you kidding me? What have I been doing for the past 6 years? Not once have I ever asked you to be my friend, because I already considered you my friend. How many memories, how much of my moments in high school contained you in it? MORE THAN 60%! I barely knew you, but offered to let you stay in my house because I wanted to help you because you are my friend. How often have  I coaxed you when you were down? How many times have I always told you that you are my friend, that you have friends, that we care about you? Who encouraged you to play that only sport you love? Who made promises with you? Who kept all your secrets? I never judged you because I knew that everyone is different, but I always wanted to understand you. Have I ever taken advantage of our friendship? NEVER. I even attempted to be honest with you, but your pride, oh your pride, it didn't listen. Instead you fire something at me in defense. And I took it. I always took it. You always misunderstood me. I never knew how to react then, because I wouldn't realize you misunderstood me until hours later, after I've spent most of my time trying to understand why you said what you said. This is the crack. This is what has broken us. You don't see it, but I do. I feel hurt, used, stupid, and angry all the time when I'm around you. I feel like a failure, not just in school, but as a friend too, because no matter how many times I worked to keep you in the light, you always smothered it. And you have not once notice my fall. Even if you did, you have not once offered a comforting hand or ear. When people look at us, they see that I am the strong one and you are the weak. But I do not feel that way. When I look at you, I see manipulation - the strongest power of all. And I am a victim, because I can't say no, because I always want to help, because I don't want to leave anyone behind, because I would not want to be left behind. So, you say that you finally realize that I have always wanted to genuinely be your friend. Well, you're partially right and partially wrong. I did feel that way. I didn't really think of friendship as having intentions. It's not like I'm a dirtbag male looking for my fun for the night. No. I feel insulted with that statement. I feel that I had trusted you this whole time with secrets, some of which you have blurted out to people I barely knew, and yet you had NEVER trusted me. Maybe I am misunderstanding, but honey, no relationship can exist without trust, patience, and tolerance. I need help and my tolerance meter is about to reach its max."

Most feel sorry for that person, but I can't find my compassion anymore. I don't know what has happened. There have been so many little things that happened between us - comments, eye rolls, changed tone of voice, etc - that my mind has suppressed. I need to find the key to my suppressed memories, and fast, before I explode and loose all the sanity in me.

I want to be the genuine person I once was, again. I can't take this anymore. >.<

misconceptions

Last night I was conducting the last interview for my research when I asked, "is there anything else you would like to tell me?"

The man on the other line was in his early 50s, respectable among the Montagnard Community, and a very honest and kind man.
"Yes" he said.

When I heard his familiar friendly voice, the pen in my hand that was beating on the notebook at the moment quickly returned to its upright position waiting to dance rapidly on the familiar dance floor. My mouth opened to  ask him to continue, but he beat me to it.

The next stream of words that escaped from the phone line put my life at a halt. My chest grew tight, my heart fell, my body stiffened, and my hand began to shake. The pen decided not to dance. It wouldn't matter if this was recorded or not, for it was not relevant to my research. But his words reminded me of the thing I was most afraid of.

Disappointment.

"I'm so proud of you. You have made your parents proud and you give hope to this community. I'm proud of this career choice you have chosen for yourself. Just don't forget about God. Don't forget to grow in faith. Don't forget where you are from. Don't forget about your family. Stay strong and courageous. I'm proud of you. I'm proud of your success. You set an example for what a good Christian is for the young people of this community."

I was silent. I didn't know what to say. How could I?

They all think I'm successful. They believe that I can make a difference. When they look at me they see a strong woman, who knows where she's going in life, who has ambition and aspiration. They see hope.

But I am nothing close to that.

I'm not successful. I don't know where I'm going in life. In fact, I don't know what I want to do with my life. Ambition? Aspiration? Those are characteristics of a conqueror, a champion. I could be anything more less than that. I lack aspiration and passion. I'm indecisive, not in control, and unsure of what I am doing at this very moment. What do they think I'm going to do? Be a doctor and open my own clinic? Highly unlikely. I can barely pass my human physiology exams with anything higher than a B. An example? A good Cristian? Hah! What have I done to these people? Have I brainwashed them? Why do they see me in such a way? There are other Montagnard teenagers doing things bigger than me, actually doing well in school, and are in fact pursuing a career. Why aren't they getting any attention, any acknowledgement? What is my career choice anyway? I don't even know.

I don't even know.

"Hello?"

I cleared my throat hastily as the thoughts in my head kept swirling. Shifting my position in the uncomfortable dinning chair, I began beating the pen against the notebook again and swallowed my spit hard.

"Thank you. Thank you for your time and for answering these questions for me. Good night."

"Ok. No problem. God bless you."

Click.