I’ve Been Given A Chance At A Do-Over, And I Consider Myself Lucky
The past couple of weeks my moods and relationships has seamlessly reflected the weather. On Monday last week, it was 45 degrees and lightly rained. On Tuesday, it was 55 without a cloud in the sky. Wednesday and Thursday, I think I might have even seen a snowflake, that was followed by a beautiful bright and sunny weekend.
I used to have some really good friends. I won’t lie, in high school, we ruled the school. Tasha and I were one of the two most popular people there. I was a 16 year-old with my own place, and she was a skinny, hot, funny European girl. Carter didn’t go to our school anymore, but he was exclusively dating Tasha, and soon became my best friend, making his popularity sky rocket.
I established myself my junior year when I transferred, and was dating a senior boy, that went there. We were the “it” couple, but broke up at the end of the school year. I suppose you can’t see what an amazing person you have, until they aren’t there anymore.
When I came back to school, I met Tasha in our gym class… which happened to be “Aerobic Walking”. Soon, the three of us became best friends, and were the most loved and hated people in the school.
I recently stopped speaking with Carter because of his “irresponsibility’s” not only with his friends and family, but with himself. Because of my decision to get clean, I had to cut out the negativity in my life. When he was faced with two choices, dirty attention from sleazy little candy kids was more important to him, than person he promised he would always be there for; his partner.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve made the same choice he did. I was faced with two options. One was to be a clean kid, with my best friend in the whole world, Bri. She was the only person in the entire world that I didn’t need any sort of substance, to have an abundance of fun with. What did I do? Well, I went from living with my other half, to sitting in my studio apartment smoking a cigarette and sporadically responding to myspace comments from 13-year-old “scene” boys that convince themselves that life in suburbia is absolutely inhabitable and that their live journal is the only way they can vent about their unmanagable middle-class lives.
The problem here isn’t the fact that a cherished relationship has been displaced, but that after we both walked away clean, I’m plagued with talk that my name is being smeared by people that think they know me. It’s one thing to be hated because I’ve treated you poorly, or because I’m talking mad shit about you, but it’s quite another to hate me because I’m doing what’s best and what’s healthiest for me.
It’s actually kind of interesting, that once I move on from the whole sticky situation, and I actually start doing wonderful things for myself, I start hearing hub-bub on myspace and connexion about how old friends are starting unnecessary feuds, telling lies, and proving to everyone how jealous they of about me.
I get it, I used to be addicted to drugs. I talked shit, I was horrible. But the question is:
Should I revert back to the old ways, pull a Gretchen, and start spilling secrets? Or do I keep my lips tightly pressed together, smile, and let jealous children attempt to play their games?
I’m a better and different person, now. I learn from my mistakes, and I take credit when, due. I wasn’t the best friend I could have been. I wasn’t always 100% supportive, and I didn’t always have the most time on my hands. Oh hello! I’m a seventeen year old homosexual boy attempting to not only live on my own, but manage a social life where my main focus is sobriety and getting healthy. You can talk as much shit as you want, but I was ALWAYS there when it counted most. I was ALWAYS brutally honest, and I was abundant in love.
When your life was upside down, I was there for you. ALL of you. When anyone’s life is a mess, I come in and fix it. That’s what I do. People don’t always like to hear the truth, but that’s all I have to offer them. Truth and love. A lot of the time, that’s too much for some people. Hey I might come across as a raging bitch, insecure, or even just an asshole… At first. But no one I know can say that I haven’t cared. In the past I’ve been a little manic about how I’ve come across, but thanks to my dear friend Eric, a horribly failed relationship with David, and the demise of the “Boulder Raving Crew”, I’ve learned that I need to be upfront with people with my opinion: I give it to them once, and that’s my two cents. I have to let people live their lives, and make their own mistakes. I care too much, I know. But I’ve learned to let people choose their own paths. Even though they might be walking into a mess of trouble, I have to bite the bullet.
So while I’m biting my tongue, others are shooting me with passive aggressive verbal assault. They’re trying to exploit me, because they are jealous that I can walk away with a clean slate.
The decision’s been made. I’m a better person.
And haters are just gonna have to hate.
Matty B.
