Sometimes sharing isn’t caring

I recently went through a milestone of sorts and I didn’t put it on Facebook or anything so…the only people that knew were those that I told. And when I really thought about it, the number of people to potentially tell was low. There was no one. All of those friends who say they’re there for me – nowhere to be seen. I guess that I could just send a picture and tell them but…I don’t know that I want to.

I told one person and I asked how they were because I haven’t heard from them in months. They said they weren’t good. I said that I was there if they needed to vent. They said, oh yeah, I’ll definitely need you. To say that I regret asking is an understatement.  It’s not that I don’t want to be needed, just that I don’t want to be used. I don’t want to take time out of my day to console someone who doesn’t appreciate it. I’m tired of being the one that’s always there. I’m the person they come to when fucked up shit is happening. And maybe that’s what friendships are about. Sharing the bad stuff. Helping them through it. However, how can I be expected to care when I didn’t know the good stuff in the first place? I wasn’t considered worthy enough of sharing good news. I suppose I get it. It’s a selfish part of life. We want to keep the good. We have to share the bad. I’m kind of over it. I’m done consoling, done advising people when they just discard me afterwards like I’m a piece of rubbish.

I have two friends like this who dutifully do things like play me back on Words With Friends but they can’t pick up their phones and text me a simple hi. And for whatever reason, I go along with it. I don’t know. I feel like I’m being messed with but I know that would require some level of care on their parts and that clearly is not the case.

The major downside is that it makes me not want to talk to anyone. So the people that do reply end up getting nothing and I end up losing them too. It’s a vicious cycle with no end.

Such is life.

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