To my sparkly friend,
I remember one of the times he made you cry I told you you were too good for him – that old cliché. In your case, though, it’s 100% true, and I told you that too. He is average: in looks, intelligence, personality and ambition. I said that you, on the other hand, are ‘sparkly’, which almost made you cry again.
What I mean is that you are one of life’s memorable characters. You are loud and confident, yes, but you’re not a loudmouth. You chose Montaigne as your non-fiction character for that assessment day, for goodness’ sake! 90% of the people around you probably had no idea who he was. More than that, you could justify extensively why you chose him; that’s knowledge and passion.
Not only are you intelligent, but you’re one of the funniest people I know. You are honest in your observation of everything, and unafraid to be blunt. Also, you post the best stuff on Facebook. If only you liked Twitter, you could be popular there. And I look forward to the day you finally blog or take to YouTube.
I could carry on listing the reasons that you leave an impression, but what it comes down to is charisma. It’s not something anyone can work on or develop, it’s just something a person has (or doesn’t). You have it. You’re the protagonist of the novel, the subject of the song, the star of the movie! Take it from a co-star.
When we first met, you intimidated me. I had never been faced with so much self-confidence before. One time we were all talking, and you said that you were awesome. It stopped me for a second. Someone who loved herself? That phrase is always used as an insult, but here was somebody who was a person that they liked, a person they would want to be friends with. As surprising as I found your comment, it wasn’t off-putting, because you WERE awesome and you are still.
Now, of course, I realise what you were dealing with when I knew you before. Getting to know you better over the past few months, I have found that you think you’re awesome, but that doesn’t mean you think anyone else will. Your confidence is not a façade, but it lives alongside an almost equal measure of insecurity. It makes me mad that this is something other people have reinforced. After the past few months, I just wish you could see yourself how your friends and family see you.
We are both recently single, and I think you were jealous of how I was able to deal with it. My relationship, for want of a better word, should have been more significant, and I think you thought I was putting on a brave face. The truth is, I went to work the next day with a slight sense of relief – I could return to my safe, single life and be myself again. When I have any doubts about a relationship, I run, instead of trying to make things work. Sometimes it turns out I was right to have doubts, and I was wrong about the person, so I can totally relate to part of what you’re feeling: the bruised ego.
You are past that, though. You’re heartbroken. You keep apologising for crying. And I am a little envious of how much you feel. It means you threw yourself into it and gave him every possible chance. You didn’t let previous experience stop you from trusting again. It’s just that, in the end, it wasn’t worth it. You could be forgiven for giving up on relationships, yet you leave yourself open to the idea of love, and the possibility of being hurt again. You are the brave one.
We all have our issues, and you make an active effort to work through yours, but it leaves me wondering what my problem is. If it comes down to experience, I’ve never had a particularly bad relationship; I’ve just never had a particularly good one. If it all comes back to your parents, can the example set for me have been so good that I don’t think anyone can live up to that standard? Or did I subliminally learn how to live as a single person? In a family full of women, whose matriarch is my ninety-four-year-old grandmother – a woman who has been a widow for longer than she was married – a couple of them stayed single and many settled later than normal.
However, a couple of years ago, I learned that my gran had the opportunity to go abroad during the war. She really wanted to go, but her boyfriend – my grandfather – said that if she went, they were over. And so she stayed. One of the most independent women I know made a massive sacrifice for the sake of her relationship, which is something I can’t imagine doing. (Although I’m kind of glad she stayed, or I might not be here.)
You are also a strong woman capable of making compromise. I admire that, but I think you have made too many recently. Remember in Grey’s Anatomy, when Cristina is talking about Burke and says that he took little pieces of her, ‘so small [she] didn’t even notice’ and she made herself into what he wanted? When it comes to compromising who you are, that is giving too much. You should never be with somebody who tries to put you down so that you won’t outshine him. You deserve someone who is so proud to be with you that he puts you in the spotlight.
I am not going to promise that he’s just around the corner, or that you’ll find him when you’re not looking for him, blah blah blah. I’ll leave that to everyone else. You don’t buy the bullshit, and neither do I. Hell, you might never meet someone to spend the rest of your life with! And that’s OK – more relationships end than last. However, as I said before, you are a sparkly person. And chances are you’re going to meet a fair few men that want to be a part of your story.
Until you’re over this one, things are going to suck. And I’m sorry about that. For now, you’re stuck with me, but I think we can both do – and have done – much worse!