I like to think I hold my relationships in my own hands, like I can protect them and shape them and mend them and keep them warm and make them work the way I want and envision them working.
And so I always have to take a step back when I see one changing in ways that I’m not exactly comfortable with or in favor of. Because, you know, actively watching the disintegration of something you once held so dear is neither a friendly or happy process. And it’s a slow disintegration, really. An erosion. There’s no blast, nothing sudden or immediate. Just a slow weathering of something that was once so crisp and dear, now a steady dulling…something in which the destruction is hardly visible if you didn’t try to see what was happening.
And when you look at the big picture, with the benefit and clarity of hindsight, the splintering becomes more and more evident. And so here I sit, trying to chalk this up to the fact that sometimes our paths take different directions, and maybe they do. I’m going to focus mine on being conscious of the moment I am living in and always being grateful for it, on being kind, being loyal, on being the best friend, daughter, sister, aunt that I can be, and doing the things that make me and those I care about happy. I guess I’m coming to the point where I’m realizing that if we can’t grow in our friendships together, that’s okay, too, really. Some people are meant to be friends forever, some are meant to be friends for a period in their lives. Neither is less important. Though the realization is still a little off-putting.
But this is life. This is my 27th year. And I intend to spend each day crafting new relationships, maintaining those that are most important, and letting go of those that need to be set free. Living with intention…or something like it.