Breaking up is hard to do

I like everyone to like me. I like to like everyone.

Neither of these things are always possible or even desirable, but even so it kinda stings to realize that people move on and away and apart. It smarts a little to know that relationships change, evolve, mutate over time and circumstance, even when it is clearly for the best.

It is my nature to see a relationship in the ebb of its cycle, and to wonder what I can do to restore it. To keep it from dissolving into a memory.

Usually the solution is to change something about myself to entice the other party to linger on. There is nothing wrong with desiring to change. The Christian faith is built on it. But when I am altering parts of myself, parts that are perfectly acceptable to some, to solely meet the needs of another I'm not sure that is the kind of foundation on which I hope my friendships stand.

I know who I am. There are no surprises here.

I make myself cringe more often than I make you cringe. I say the wrong things, too often, too loudly, have too many opinions, am cynical, sarcastic and intolerant of stupidity. I am too much like my mother, and have inherited questionable traits from my grandmother. I am not polished or reserved or particularly nice. I am selfish and skeptical and horridly open.

I know this.

To this list you can add fiercely loyal. Some might assume this would belong on the "pro" side of the page of the Sharmilla debate. And sometimes, I would agree.

Now though, it is marked clearly under "con", as I remain transfixed by old bonds, chained to a past that has no place in the future.

This is a stark and sad reality of life which I am trying bravely to accept.