Trust me. Its trial and error.

When we are young, with every mistake, every bad move, every lost friendship or relationship, its trial and error. Regrets come easy when you lose what was once the familiar, we react to change and try change ourselves, change the way the story actually played out, blow the outcome and the actions out of proportion. We go into self-preservation mode. For example, you break up with your girlfriend/ boyfriend and your friends will have your back to the grave “they pushed you, you were so good to them, she/he is really messed up, you deserve so much better, it was their fault” etc and their friends will have theirs “oh I hate them now, you were so good to them, I cant believe they did this to you” etc, you were both once two parts of a whole, now you’re two separate half’s on your own, so you no longer care about another in line with caring about yourself, so that ex the other half of me just becomes a memory OR you have a falling out with a friend and you both scramble to pled case to every surrounding player, to get some form of back up – secrets and lies come out and you create a brick wall telling the innocent bystanders to jump on a side. My question is… why do we self-preserve against facing the facts? When really we are just covering our bullet wounds with band-aids.

I feel like a bit of a hypocrite commenting on self-preservation because I do it to, but I know I do it and the older I get, the more relationships I’m in, the more experiences I have, the more I learn from these mistakes. A dear friend of mine (who’s conversations usually inspire the bulk of these entries) has been a rock full of wisdom for me the past few weeks, laying it down harsh as rocks, sure, my heart is a little worst for wear and my ego is a little battered but she makes a decent point. She sat me down as basically asked me where the hell I had lost myself, I had turned my past into princesses and castles, keeping it like a fairytale on lock, tight under my arm, not letting a page slip near the pen of any new potential ‘in shining armor’ types. When really the castles were abandoned, princesses no longer care whether you are on the guillotine or the sheets beside them and your fairytale is merely a scrapbook of torn images and loose ramblings. I had exchanged friendships as sacrifices to each other. Where do we loose the guts to be honest with each other and with ourselves? It seems the older we get the more we tip toe around ticking bombs that are clearly set to blow, however the older we get the more bombs we set for ourselves. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not claiming regret, I’m merely observing myself for afar and seeing how pathetic I look chasing hearts on strings, seeing how classless I look drowning my sorrows, seeing how heartless I look dodging love like bullets signed return to sender if destination is not reached, seeing how selfish I look leaving friendships half carved in marble when I get to the tricky details or lack the right tools.

Rough realizations. I still believe in happy ever after and I still believe in loyalty and hope and faith and fate and everything happening for a reason. I still believe in the power of love and I still believe love will conquer all. But different perspectives open new doors, doors for people locked in rooms. So stop putting band-aids on bullet wounds, because life is trial and error, hit and miss, and stitch’s look so much better than a blood stain on your tongue from licking your wounds.