Monologue: Best Friends

I feel like Michael G. Scott whenever a friend explicitly acknowledges our friendship. Like I want to fucking bolt the hell out of there like I'm not the father on Maury or something. I like the initial warm feeling of acceptance, I enjoy that. But I hate the feeling that they may have latched onto a part of me that's not really me and continue to expect me to behave a certain way when there’s no guarantee.

It’s not like we're in a romantic or sexual relationship, and we’re not necessarily having a kid. But someone confessing that they are my friend gives me a feeling that I have an obligation. An obligation to take care of something that I didn't have to before. And a very small, but very, very loud part of me doesn't like that.

I never thought I'd understand this feeling of not wanting to define a relationship because I can be incredibly sensitive at times. But I do understand and it makes me sad because I know I shouldn't be this afraid to commit to a friendship or really most friendships for that matter.

I’m pretty sure I alienate myself more than I'd like to admit. I’ve made amends with the fact that I'll never really have a best friend. I will always be marching to the beat of my own drum, or rather my own playlist in reality. Part of me is capable of friendship — I have friends — but taking that a step further is with a declaration of a “good” or “best” is anxiety-inducing.

#Personal #Monologue #Friendship