I’ve been afraid of changing

I turn 25 in 10 days.

I went to Medea’s cremation service on Saturday.

You know, I was really sad when I first found out. I called a bunch of my friends in California, and no one answered. A few responded, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” and then they didn’t. I know everyone’s busy, and I know everyone has their own lives. But, at the same time, I feel like having a roommate die on you deserves a phone call. 

AT THE SAME TIME, I KNOW that EVERYONE is BUSY. BUT! Wouldn’t YOU call your friend if you just found out their roommate died? And maybe that’s a little narcissistic– I’ll admit, I did NOT know Medea that well when she died.

I learned in the days following her death– from her mother and friends that stopped by the house– that she used to turn music on and dance around the house– and that the Medea that I knew– in the last 2 months of her life, who was bed-ridden– was NOT the Medea who was ALIVE and WELL.

What I gathered from that was that she was BEAUTIFUL and she was AWESOME when she was at her best. And even in her sickest hour, she was pleasant to be around. 

I have to be honest– I am disappointed, even in the friends and people I respect.

But then– then there were the calls that were made a week later, in which I caught up with them– and I felt good, and it felt GREAT to be connecting with them.

I JUST WISH THEY HAD CALLED ME WHEN I NEEDED THEM. Because it makes a difference, you know? It makes a difference when you call someone when they need you verses when you call someone when you have the time.


It’s nice to feel connected to people at home. 

I just–

and this is moving on to a different social aspect of my life–

I look at people that I wasted time worrying about,

and I wonder WHY.

Being here, being away from people I know and love, being away from people I thought I cared about, but in reality, just felt the need to be needed and placed it on people who don’t really matter–


what the fuck?


I was so WASTEFUL with my time and I was even more WASTEFUL with my energy into what I thought would make people care about me. 

I just–

I feel like there’s this bigger picture that MOST of us don’t get, myself included, in what makes you a good person.

And being there should be enough.

But what exactly is “being there?”

And who exactly should you “be there” for?

I think that’s the big question.

Like, who really matters in the long run, verses, who matters to you right now just because you think they do, or that they’ll be there for you next time?

The majority of us are wrong when we answer on the spot. But, in most cases, that’s because we don’t have all our facts straight.

I wish I cared about the right people, at the right times.

And I wish I didn’t care about the wrong people, even when they felt right. 

And I wish the wrong people would stop being the wrong people, so that I could be right for once. 


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