The older kids like to say, "You'll have more of those." More of those broken hearts. More of those one-night stands. More of those regrets. More of those fall outs. More of those to help us define who we are. So I try to ask myself: Who are you? I can tell you my hobbies, my interests, who my friends are, what I'm good at, what I'm bad at, how I can be... but I can't begin to describe myself in such a way that truly answers who I am. I guess I still need more of those. And as I get older, those become frequent and this gets easier to accept.
I lost a handful of friends sometime circa 2006. It just made sense that our departure take place- my life was going this way and theirs, that way. In high school, losing friends was the end of the world. In college, losing friends resides in time. I'll grow out of partying, I'll grow out of going out, I'll grow out of cocaine and booze and marijuana. I'd grow out of the incessant (and unnecessary) drama. I'd find new and productive ways to spend my days. Don't get me wrong, the ending would never be as pretty as the beginning. But from the end springs a new beginning. And the beauty in its truth is insurmountable.
The next of those I'm ready to experience is unreciprocated loss. The kind where you feel guilty for what you're doing. The kind where you question your motives as selfish. The kind where it's easy to forget that your decision is a line in the sand- a boundary being set. The kind where you stand up for yourself. The kind where you declare your need to be respected.
Those, in the end, pave way to the start of who. Who am I? I am respected. Both by others and myself.