Unrealistic Expectations

I am slowly but surely beginning to realize that, at times, I have rather unrealistic expectations for the people I call my friends.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been well known to drop everything for a friend in need.  I make personal sacrifices and I bend over backwards.

But because that’s something I’m willing to do doesn’t mean that I have a right to expect the same degree from other people in my life.  Not that I expect people to bend over backwards for me, just that sometimes I find myself feeling let down by people, when I’d really set the bar quite high to begin with.

“You want the Jesus of all friends, Felicia,” Willie once told me.  And sometimes I do.  There’s nothing wrong with wanting that sort of a friend, I think.  But expecting friends to rise to that level is unrealistic and unfair.

I often talk myself out of friends.  I tell myself that they wouldn’t do what I’d do for them, so why bother?  Why work for a friendship that will inevitably let me down?  I’m working on this.  Most days.  I think it all stems from my general insecurities and a string of events that occurred in high school where my personal and emotional health was put at risk because of a “friend” I was trying to help.

Friendships, like relationships, have a sort of cycle or timeline to them.  At first, the friendship is shiny and new, and you’re excited to have a new person in your life.  You delight in learning new things, and retelling stories that all your other friends think have gotten old.  You begin spending more time with this person than your other friends, because they’re new and wonderful, and you adore them.  

But then, slowly, the cracks begin to show.  They’re a flake, or a pathological liar, or a gossip, or they chew with their mouth open.  You begin to regret the personal things you may have trusted them with.  Irritation begins flitting in and out of your time spent with them as pet peeves are violated and their flaws start to get to you. 

Here’s where I begin to pull away, every time (Honestly, this is true of relationships and friendships as well).  At this point, I begin delaying text returns, dodging calls, making excuses to avoid hanging out.  I start to mourn the friendship lost, while simultaneously telling myself they weren’t a good enough friend anyway.  I mean, look at what I did for them that they never repaid me for or even said thank you about!  Look!  See, this is justifiable!

But, mostly, I just need to realize that everyone has flaws.  Not every friend I acquire will be a best friend.  Not every friend will have flaws I can overlook all the time and love them for regardless.  Those friends are rare, and I need to appreciate that a bit more.  Instead of walking away from the cracks as they form, I need to simply skip over them and continue on.

Here’s to friendship, ladies and gents.

Trust.

Trust, ladies and gents, is a funny sort of beast.

It takes a lifetime to earn, but just one moment to shatter.

People withhold trust until it is clear that it has been earned.  Because trust is not something to be given out lightly by anyone not to be considered hopelessly naive.  For some people, trust is the holy grail in a relationship.  You learn of its existence, you hear tales, but you know, deep down, you’re never going to be able to claim it for yourself. 

Trust is frightening, in and of itself.  Coming to a moment with another human being where the decision to trust or close out must be made is not usually simple.  Giving trust is an investment, and one in which the gains almost never outbalance the losses.

It’s so fragile, and yet it’s the foundation for all our most basic interactions with one another.

It hardly seems fair, really.

Regrets

With a bit in response to Rachel’s recent post:

My ex and I were very competitive.  In arguments, we each wanted to win for the sake of winning.  Though this was in a laughing, friendly sort of way, not a horribly dysfunctional sort of way.  I think.

Anyway, I used to tell said ex that I had no regrets in my entire life.  And it was true.  It was the truest thing I probably said back then.  Back in those days, I flirted, I laughed, I teased, and I entertained.  I had all the friends I could have wanted, and all the boys too.  Anything that had happened in my life up to that point to make it bad had happened TO me, not BECAUSE of me.  So there were no decisions to regret, no choices to have struggled with.

I’ve been thinking a lot about regret lately.  The things you do that, in the moment, seem the best idea ever.  Then you’re caught up in your life, and you take a second to look back, and you wonder, “would I have been happier if..?” 

Then regret begins to sneak its way into your heart.  You begin to question yourself, your ability to make decisions, and your general thought process.  You may even begin to question yourself as a person.

Today, I can’t even list to you the regrets that I have.  But, I can’t erase them, I just have to stomach them and hope to fight another day.  I may break down from regret once in awhile.  But I’m never down for the count.  I just try my hardest to remember that girl who so triumphantly and proudly could announce that her life had no regrets whatsoever.  I remember her, and I continue on in the hopes of someday becoming her again.