early in the morning today. I was remembering an incident that occurred in the month of January. Incidents are remembered on the basis of emotions. We were taught in college about a certain school of acting that believes in remembering a sad incident from the actor's real life in order to generate real tears as opposed to using glycerin. I found a faint similarity between this school of thought and the phenomenon of a "patronus" from Harry Potter - something that wizards were supposed to conjure out of a happy memory in order to defeat the Dementors who were out there to suck happiness out of a soul.
The incident involved me, almost drastically. I faced a true dilemma. To be or not to be. To get involved or to get out of the room. If I had chosen to rush out of the room, I would have been doing the right thing. Instead, I chose to get involved because of underlying emotions that were brought to the forefront of my mind that was already at a war with my bodily biology. I suffered heavily. If I had walked out the room, I would have suffered equally heavily. I would have cried my guts out. I would have felt bad for myself; mainly for losing somebody as a friend.
Ironically, that is what ultimately happened.
Something that I was afraid might happen; happened. Instead of happening in December, it happened months later. The very fact that I cried early in the morning today proves that I am still affected. Friends are important.
I lost another friend way back in college. It involved insane jealousy on my part that drove me to bitch about things that that friend had told me; she had confided in me, I had bitched about her morality behind her back to my closer circle of friends. People had turned against her because of my bitching. That friend, an awesome person, fun to be with, deep and intense, insightful and funny to the core had always hated me after that. I forgot her, got on with my life and she kept hating me for five years. I think she still hates me.
There is nothing that makes me feel as bad as the thought of someone, a good friend hating me; when I am absolutely sure that yes, someone out there hates me enough to delete me from a friendlist.
