Pieces of My Soul

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

Every person I’ve met in my almost 18 years of existence has played an important role in my life, even if I’ve only met them very briefly. But the most important roles have been played by my closest friends; people who I’ve bonded with throughout my childhood and even those who I’ve known for only a short amount of time but have formed a connection with.

People may have only one or two people they could count on, or they could have a large group of close friends also. When it comes to a lot of my friends, they have only one or maybe two particular people who they share their secrets with and whom they call their best friends. I’ve been blessed to be a best friend to some of them, and I would never exchange that for anything. But there are always certain issues I see myself facing in all kinds of relationships, even in friendships, unfortunately.

I’ve only recently noticed that I try to avoid using the word ‘best friend’, but only when it comes to myself. I have no problem when I hear others use that word. I’m still trying to figure out why it is that every time I use that word, I only feel uncomfortable. It’s not like I don’t consider some people my best friends, I do, but to call them as such makes me uneasy and instead I always call them my ‘close friends’.
But not being able to call people my best friend doesn’t mean I care for them any less than a person does for their best friend. I suppose, at the end of the day, it is just a word and doesn’t matter much as long as my actions prove what I don’t seem to be able to say. But I feel guilty nonetheless. My friends never say it, but often I get the feeling that I unintentionally hurt them when I don’t respond with ‘You’re my best friend too’.

I’m not a very open person. But there are a few people in my life who I can be myself around and who I can share things with. But the thing is, I share different things with different people, all close to me, but not everything to one or two people in particular. It’s like I’m Voldemort and I split my soul into several pieces (minus the part where I murder people to do so) and those who I share things with now have a piece of my soul with them for life. Point being, not one person has more than the other. All of those people are very close to me, and I have room for them all in my heart. But sometimes I feel like I disappoint some of my friends when they find out that they aren’t the only people I rely on, especially if I am that one person for them. It makes me feel very guilty.

I may care for a lot of people in my life, but I choose very carefully who to give a part of my soul to i.e. who to share things with. I’m learning that I can’t please everyone and I shouldn’t try, but it becomes especially hard when those people mean a lot to me and I don’t mean to hurt them.

I can’t help being like this though I’m trying to change.
Until then, to those who I’ve unintentionally hurt because of all this, I truly am sorry.

© Ashes 2017


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