Confessional

On this blog, I do everything in my power to put on a face. I'm trying not to rant, or to whine, or to put anything out there that makes me look like the sad version of myself. 

I'm going to make one exception tonight because I want to share a piece of myself with the world. 

I am deep in the throes of change right now. School to the working world. Single to engaged and then married. Moving out of my apartment, back in with my parents, and then to my own home. 

I love these changes. I do. 

But my insecurities lie elsewhere. My insecurities lie with the people that are sometimes termed "friends". And change regarding friends hurts me more than I can stand sometimes. 

My confession tonight is this: if I had to choose one thing in my life right now that I wanted more than anything else in the world, it would be for another human being to brag about me. I want somebody to be proud of who I am. I want somebody to show me off. I want them to wish me a special happy birthday on facebook or go out of their way to try to get me to hang out with them. I want to be wanted and desired and cherished and loved. I want people to get excited to see me and not just say, oh here we go again. It happened once, not all that long ago. I got a post on Facebook dedicated to me. And it made me cry. Literally. I want to feel that way again.  

I made a desperate attempt to reach out to the people that I felt had been ignoring me for weeks. It wasn't intended as a jab. Just a way of venting my frustration. I can't decide if I'm extremely overjoyed  or crazy disappointed. Because it worked. Suddenly I'm hanging out with 3 different people in 2 days. I tell myself that if these people really didn't want to see me, they wouldn't. But why couldn't they have come to me on their own? Why did I have to push yet again? I'm trying so hard not to be so needy. That was the old me. Needy and desperate and depressed. I don't want to slip into that again. Not if I can help it. 

But oh my gosh. I hung out with 2 friends tonight to watch a football game and I laughed harder than I can remember laughing in months. Fine, it was a little forced. I was kind of a bully about it. So is it worth it for the joy? Do I act like a needy little leech to laugh that way once every few months? Maybe. 

I love them. I love them so much and I want to be a part of their lives so badly. I just want them to want me half as much.