the passive-agressive friend dump

A question for pondering:

Am I obligated to remain friends with people that I don't want to be friends with?

The flip side to this problem is that I know there are people who probably want to fall gracefully out of contact with me, and I keep texting or Facebooking them and trying to stay in touch, saying things like, "Hey, haven't talked to you in FOREVER, let's hang out!" In my mind (since I'm *awesome*) these comments seem perfectly harmless, not at all annoying, and really, people should respond to me.

But then....I hate Facebook. And email. Internet in general. Talking to my mom, I don't think she's still in touch with anyone from high school - not a single person. Sometimes that freaks me out; I don't ever want to lose touch with my best friends. But lately I envy her. Facebook has robbed me of this ability to gradually just lose contact with someone. I can't lose contact - I see right there on the news feed everything that is going on in your life, and you can very easily write to me and know that I'll get it, since clearly, I haven't changed my last name or forgotten to forward you my new address.

But seeeeriously. There needs to be a polite way to just...break off a friendship. Am I being really mean in this? I honestly don't know - am I required to stay friends with someone until I DIE, even if I get nothing positive out of the relationship? You would never say that about a dating relationship. Why are friendships allowed to go on and on, even when they're just dragging along painfully?

There needs to be a friend equivalent of the "He's Just Not That Into You" book. If I were the writer, here's what I'd say:

"Dear whoever,

In Facebook-stalking this seemingly inattentive friend of yours, have you seen any other recent activity? Yes? Oh, you mean, they've written to other people, added new photos, changed their "About Me," and gained 200 new friends, but haven't replied to your wall posts for a year?

Take a hint. They're not trying to be malicious, but the time has come for you to acknowledge that the flame of your friendship will never be rekindled. Move on and comment on someone else's status."

I'm so going to hell. Right by the unreachably high cupcake table.

Love always,
molly

word count

My stories condense very well into 72 words, as it turns out. I like the limit. I love the site. I hope they really do make it into a book someday soon.

Number 134. Thank you, King Princess :)

http://www.seventytwowords.com/

Love always,
molly

where I'm going

Description of good writers in my Creative Nonfiction book for my narrative journalism class:

"Such writers pay attention to what goes on around them and are curious about nearly everthing. They have read not just American history but also Russian history. They can find Trinidad-Tobago on a globe. They're intrigued by Caribbean weather, suburban traffic patterns, how farm machinery works...

They listen to how new lovers talk, watch how they move their hands during an argument across the room. They touch the coarse fabric of an old army uniform jacket - and the broken knees of an old friend who once played football. They roll down their windows and stop the car so they can smell the night breeze outside of Deming, New Mexico. And even at that moment, when they are completely captivated by the moment, they are also outside themselves, inventing the words they would use to describe the aroma of dust, hot asphalt and sage. They can't help it. They are in the habit of noticing things through words.

When they go on vacation, they go off the tour. It isn't that they are not astonished by cathedrals, but they are more fascinated by the old women in black shawls drinking aperitifs at the tobacco shop next door at nine o'clock in the morning - in the looming shadow of a sacred Gothic architecture of light...

They deliberately do things they've never done, go places they haven't been, even - especially - to places in their own backyards. They climb up into their neighbor's attic and watch their own house from a completely new perspective - briefly, irrationally thrilled, expecting some stranger to emerge from their own front door.

They make it a point to be where interesting things are liable to happen. And because they prowl the world with their eyes wide open and their ears pricked for sound, wherever they go, interesting things are liable to happen."

This is who I want to be. This is who I'm becoming already. And this is who I've always, always been.

Love always,
molly

I've come home running

"If and when I can rid myself of this clouded mind, I'll watch myself settle down into a place where peace can search me out and find that I'm so ready to be found."

I'm not going to Spain. It took me a long, long time to get to this point, where I could finally step back and realize that I'm not the one who's losing something special. A long time. But I'm here now, and I feel better about this situation and life in general than I have since....I don't really know when. Probably since I was back in Spain. It's this feeling of being lighter, of being back on track; of finally having given in and returned to doing what God wants me to do. How could I forget how much better life is when I let him be in control? I should've remembered that he always, always keeps his promises.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matt. 11:28

And I'm loving that Relient K song right now:

"When I go down, I'll lift my eyes to you. I won't look very far, 'cause you'll be there with open arms to lift me up again."

Thank you so, so much to all those who stuck with me and prayed for me and kept speaking truth into my life. It means more to me than I could ever tell you in words.

I'll be in the Tri-Cities this next week. Come play!

Love always,
molly

I'll tell you flat-out

My paper's still not done. Yes, I've had all quarter to work on it; yes, my screwup is screwing up my group mates, but I cannot focus.

This is where I am right now: No one wants me to go, except my friend who's still over there and hasn't been around to see my breakdowns. No one - my parents are against it, so are the friends I cry to over and over again - they know me as well as I know myself, probably better, and they see that all I'm doing is hurting myself. I talk to them, and I talk to God, and I think, No, I can't go; I can't do that to myself; I need to just give it up, walk away, and trust that he will do something to make it better. The stronger decision would be to stay home, Michael said; how often do we really get the chance to walk by faith? To step out and say, Okay, God, I have no idea what I'm doing; I'm scared and hurt and vulnerable and broken, and I need you to step in and fill the empty places inside me.

But then something shifts in me, and I remember why I loved Cadiz so much; I remember how fun it was to live there, to go out at night and lay on the beach during the day and speak Spanish all the time and just run around feeling young in a good way. And I try to convince myself that I can go without seeing the Spaniard and still enjoy myself, just focus my trip on having fun with my friends and enjoying Spain. I mean, I liked it before I met him; can't I still like it now?

I'm honestly changing my mind every half hour at this point. I'm supposed to fly out next Monday. If I don't go, that means giving up the trip I've been looking forward to, obsessively, for two months. It means never getting the closure I want, the closure I need to move on from the whole stupid story. I can't not go, it seems; no matter how heartbreaking it will be to be there, it'll be worse to be home, knowing every minute exactly what I gave up.

I know what I should do, and I know almost for sure what I'm going to do, and neither one sounds at all pleasant.

Pray?

Love always,
molly

watching history repeat me

Maybe I don't have to go after all.

Thinking of alternative spring break plans means trusting that he won't let me fall flat on my face...am I capable of letting go and walking away?

Vamos a ver.

Love always,
molly

lame.

joder...I hate sleeping. too many nights filled with bad dreams - dreams where I don't want to continue but can't bear not to know the end. I wake up from one only to dive back into another. I'm always running, trying to get somewhere safe; always with someone behind, algo espantoso justo al punto de alcanzarme. I wake up exhausted.

no one wants me to go. my dad thinks the costs will outweigh the benefits; he'd rather I cancel and stay home. michael says I'm setting myself up to get hurt; that this isn't what I want, that I have to trust that there will be someone better. mary says that there is nothing for me in this direction - nothing to run to. nowhere I want to go.

God doesn't want me to go. I get that, okay? I get it. Enough with the well-intentioned advice. Es facil para ti, michael; tu puedes decir que Seguro que hay mejor tipo para ti! Facil para ti, que nunca carecerás pareja, que siempre has tenido y siempre tendrás alguien que quiere estar contigo. No me ayudas....y no me ayudes más. Eso basta ya.

Yo sé que es una tontería. Yo sé. Llevo dos meses y medio pensando en la gran gilipollas que estoy haciendo. Pero a la vez llevo esos dos meses esperando el día en el que lo volveré a ver, finalmente, despues de tanto tiempo. No puedo cambiar de opinión; ya es demasiao tarde. No me lo puedo. Yo sé lo que hago: me va a decepcionar; me va a mentir; me va a destropear, pero....tengo que ir. Tengo que verlo. Tengo que terminarlo en persona para...para que? para dormir sin los monstruos en mi mente, supongo.

que todo fuera terminado ya...

Amor para siempre,
molly