Now I’m in church waiting for Jairia, and I’m sitting alone and it feels like I’m in my own little place.
It’s just been some time since I’ve actually wanted to be in my own little place.
Oh wait jairia’s here I’ll continue later
Back at her house.
Anyways, we were talking about how if we had met now instead of a long time ago, we probably wouldn’t have been very good friends.
I mean, we’re completely different.
Especially in the way in which we handle our mess.
Emotional mess, I mean, I don’t think I ever handle physical mess very well. (But I get to it in the end. Really. I’m serious. Black.)
I told her, “Sometimes I feel like you don’t understand me. Like when I tell you something serious and something that’s been troubling me you ignore it and talk about something else.”
And she said that it’s because she doesn’t like talking about these things, and even if I did tell her, she wouldn’t know what to say in response.
And I understand I guess. I mean, that’s her way of dealing with stuff. Shoving it into a corner of her mind and not ever telling anyone (Even though I beg her to but I stopped doing that already because I wasn’t helping her in any way). And it works for her. So she doesn’t see the need to talk about things like that, and to her, it’ll just make it worse.
Unless it’s something really serious and I desperately need help and I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown.
But other than that, smaller issues. Like feeling a little weird today, or a little sad.
Because for me, I need to talk about it, write about it, acknowledge that it exists, understand it. Maybe these are the traits of the over-thinker. I just can’t NOT think about it.
And these differences in approaches towards conflict have made me feel a little frustrated sometimes when I try sharing something with her.
But thinking about it now, I guess this is just the way it is.
It feels like she doesn’t care when she doesn’t talk about it because I keep expecting her to show it in my way, but what I didn’t understand was that she has to show it in her way, not mine. To her, talking about it won’t get anything done, and the only way to make me happier is to not talk about it.
I forget that sometimes.
I guess in friendships it’s really really important to talk about things like these so that I don’t misunderstand her and she doesn’t for me too. We all perceive everything people do in so many different ways. We give things our own interpretations. We take words and actions to hold different meanings with different amounts of severity.
And we can’t just assume that it’s the same for everyone else.
It feels like this is how most people end up in fights and conflicts.
Like Samuel and Angel.
I guess I’ll write all these thoughts that don’t really go anywhere here.
I really don’t know how I can survive without writing stuff. I was feeling quite negative before this, but now I feel pretty okay.