Really being REAL.

And what DOES my last post have to do with being real?

Is all this stuff we cart around the world a part of me that I really need or want? Is it real?

I don't have any answers on this yet.

On past posts on being real - I am still undecided where I am at with some things. I still have not really resolved the issue with Cindy in any REAL way. I have mostly just avoided the whole issue and peer at my cell phone window when someone rings to see if I should answer it or not. It's hardly a solution. Although avoidance works wonders for some people. It's never been my strong suit - avoidance - that is.

One of the things that has made me think is that Aaron is currently home/back in New Zealand and visiting all our friends there. One of our friends (you know who you are :-)) mentioned to Aaron that she didn't really know why I was friends with Cindy to start with. And what a good question. It really made me think - thanks C. And the anwswer to that is: I don't know. C said that we seem so different and the truth is - we are.

So, did someone change? Or has nobody changed and the glue that bound - has come unstuck - as it were?

Thanks C for pointing this question out and noticing the differences because up until then, I had been feeling quite guilty about the whole thing. It feels much more natural to end a friendship when you have a flaming row and do the 'fuck yous' and what a so and so that person is - than when you just realise one day tha's it's not right and you want to quietly extricate yourself. It feels 'unjustified' on some level. Like maybe you are just being 'difficult.'

Thanks to C's observatioin I realised that when I first met Cindy - things were quite different. I was different for a start. My life has changed, I have changed, my values have changed and the way I see the world on many levels has changed. There really isn't much common ground at all. So, it's not very surprising that our friendship isn't working very well any more.

And it would be lovely if we could all come to the conclusion at the same time and go, "Well look, thanks so much, it's been great, I've really enjoyed it but it's time to move on now, things have changed, good luck in your life, I wish you well, take care, bye."

But alas, it rarely works that way.

Oh to be a cat. Cats don't spend a lot of time psychoanalysing their feelings. They get to a done stage, they belt someone across the ear, rip a long talon down their nose and hiss off. When they're done, they're done.

Perhaps part of being real is recognizing when you are done and being okay with that. Acting accordingly and then not whipping out the cat-o-nines afterwards on myself for a bit of guilt inducing anxiety.