In middle life, I've come to see
I wish I had a friend like me.
To gather flowers constantly,
I wish I had a friend like me.
The game of life is rough and long
My self-worth fails, I'm not too strong
But when a friend seems right and true
I'll give my all, compassion too.
I don't know why it twists around
These so-called friends are blaming-bound
They muss and mangle with my head -
Abandonment's my daily bread.
I've been assured, you didn't make
These people sour, it's their mistake
But friends are chosen, after all
You did this, see, you took the fall.
But when I watch while souls implode
I think I've hit the mother lode:
Like nomads in the desert sun
I'll pack my things, and wave, and run.
Blogger's note. It's hard to go through things like this and not write about them, but the person involved either won't look at it or, if she does, won't recognize herself. Funny how the hurt party suffers even more by feeling like a fool for trying to make the whole thing work. Twenty years is twenty years. But all this "God has a purpose for all things" and "everything happens for a reason" and Hallmarky sayings about people growing in different directions and it's no one's fault are BULLSHIT because real damage was done over a long period of time, not only unacknowledged but unrecognized. Martyrs can do no wrong; they inflict suffocation and guilt on others, and get their jollies from it because no one can reply in kind. My part in all this is that I fell for it. I wish I had a friend like me.
