One of the strangest things about moving away is discovering how many or how few lives you have impacted in your brief years of being here. Sure I wasn’t expecting a dramatic last-minute confession of love or something, but a little acknowledgment of my departure would’ve been appreciated. But I suppose I can hold only myself to blame for this.
I am a dissociative person by nature. I dissociate. I find satisfaction in removing myself from personal relationships rather than getting into them. I often dissociate from conversations, where I drift off in thoughts more interesting than this. I tend to stare into the middle space in times like these, and it has gotten me in trouble numerous times over the years.
But that is only a taste of what I do. A few years ago, I cut myself off from most of my friends. I felt that I had stretched myself too thin, too many strings tethered me to the ground. Some use that expression with positive connotations, saying these strings keep them grounded in reality. But to me, these string prevented me from flying. Did I regret it back then? No. Do I regret it now? I’m not sure.
During these years I also formed a new, impersonal type of friendship with a group of classmates. This bond was rooted in simple things; memes and meeting up for video games. Sure we may have shared personal details of our lives with each other, but right now I couldn’t recollect them even with a gun to my head. Our bond was strong because it was superficial. I had no personal stake there.
During this period there were even some cases when I deliberately antagonised people that were getting too close to me. I felt like the strings binding us together were strengthening too much and I wasn’t comfortable with that. I’ve been cut off by people a few times. It isn’t pleasant. Being on the giving end I wonder how they must have felt at that moment. Were they as hurt as I was? Or do I take things more seriously than I should?
On the other end of the spectrum, there are people that I didn’t talk to a lot, yet surprised me when they wanted to meet before I go. It makes one introspect. Should I have been a better friend? Did I value this thread less than it deserved? Have I been a poor judge of character this whole time?
The future is uncertain. It is a maze of infinite possibilities. I like to picture the future as a crossroad, one with infinite winding trails. Some pathways that I take will be deliberate, taken with deep reflection and precision. For some, I will wander down and others I might be thrust upon by Fate. All I know for certain that this is a new beginning, and I cannot look back now.
[Featured image from peacequarters.com]