It has almost been a year ever since I packed up all my stuff, left the city not just for the summer and established back home.
And it is killing me.
I had to get back here because I needed to
get better and there was no way I could do it on my own. I had tried and
tried for the past years but I didn’t manage to get well. So it was a
familiar decision that I went back to my parent’s up until I got all up
and running.
Leaving the city the way I had to, was a big
defeat to me even though when I lived there sometimes I despised it
because many bad things had happened to me in there.
But not in a hundred million years I would’ve imagined what was to come.
See, I am pretty realistic, so I figured that
once I’d left, my friends there would keep on going with their lives, I
would miss them deeply and they’d remember that I existed sometimes.
But I didn’t quite expect the outcome.
I left the city alright. And I haven’t been
able yet to go back there and visit them because of health issues. A
couple of months ago I hit a really low point where I couldn’t walk from
my bedroom to the kitchen without feeling I was going to faint. So
obviously I still am nowhere near ready to get my car and drive to
Barcelona or get on a train on my own.
I was expecting less communication. It is not
the same to see someone on a daily basis than just over the phone or
whatever. What I didn’t expect at all was the lack of communication that
I am having.
This past 11 months I have been through and
ordeal and while doctors promised me that I’d be up and running by now, I
am certainly not ready for it.
So by Christmas time I decided instead of
sending a FB message or other impersonal messages, I’d go old-school and
send handwritten postcards to all my friends back in the city. Since I
didn’t feel like calling them just to bore them with my bad news I
figured they’d like that better.
Breaking the silence with a good wish looked
like something I’d appreciate if they did to me. I got nothing in
return. I didn’t get not one lousy postcard; nothing. Some, when they
saw the postcard after Xmas break sent me a Whatsapp. See, I didn’t get a
Merry Xmas on time. But what hurt me the most, is that from whom I was
expecting the most to hear from, they didn’t even say to me Happy
Holidays and they say they never got the postcard.
Whether all postcards arrived at the
destination except for two, I cannot prove a thing. I know I sent them
all, so it makes not much sense some got lost. But they could’ve gotten
lost. Point is, regardless, I didn’t even get a lousy Whatsapp.
Months have gone by and I haven’t heard a
word. And this hurts me so. I am positive that I haven’t done anything
wrong to be cut off so abruptly.
Before I left the city, I told them to come
over and visit me whenever they wanted and I really meant it. But no one
came so far.
It almost looks like I never existed to them,
and this makes me really sad, because I honestly care about them. Now I
don’t know what to think any longer. I would call, but I don’t want to
feel stupid calling on people who maybe they don’t want to hear from me
anymore.
Moving on, having landed at my hometown,
things are even worse. There are not many people left (my age) here.
Most people who haven’t moved to the city or abroad have gotten married
and live a complete different lifestyle, changing diapers and not being
able or not wanting to hang out. Now, I do not blame this people;
because we weren’t that close to begin with.
But then there is this girl who used to be my
friend: We were from the same group of friends and we left to
University at the same time. Since we studied at different places we
didn’t see each other that much. I was living at the Campus and she was
living with some other people from my town outside the campus.
She got close with her roommates and
completely got away from our group of friends. She recently came back to
live at my hometown for good. So when I saw her around I told her we
should hang out. We could go have a coffee or something. Her reaction
was most unexpected: ‘I don’t think so.’ She said.
‘I don’t think so?’ What did I ever do to
her? It was her who stopped talking to me and the other girl and to this
day we still don’t know why.
This other girl, my best friend from
childhood, got married, had a baby and lives 200 km away so chances of
meeting her for a coffee are slim.
Moving back to my hometown: I still don’t
understand that childish reaction of this girl. We had always been
friends until she decided not to answer calls from us and start meeting
other people. ‘Cooler people’- I guess.
So that leaves me with nobody to hang out with in 3D life.
And at the beginning it was something quite
bearable, but now it is becoming arduous. How much isolation can an
extroverted human being take?
I’ve heard of people living in complete
isolation. But that is not me. It reaches to a boiling point. And I am
at the boiling point.
I want to have a reason to make myself look
pretty, I want to have someone to talk to and share life with. I want to
have laughs, share thoughts, go out to have dinner… The usual stuff.
Is that too much to ask? I don’t think so.
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