Acquaintances

Recently it became apparent to me that I have more acquaintances than I do friends. Honestly, I do not feel that it is because I’m not a friendly person, or because people don’t like me – although I haven’t ruled either of those out – but because I’m afraid to let people get too close to me. I hear the “let your walls down” cliché all too often, but it rings true. Constantly I judge people based on how they look, or the first characteristics they show me, but I don’t give them the second chances they deserve. I shut people out much too quick for fear of being hurt in the end.

Everyone has their story of childhood pain – whether it be the pain of growing up, a broken home, or love gone wrong – and mine is just another one of those. People weren’t always nice to me as I was growing up, hell, they were just down right cruel sometimes. But of course, it has made me who I am today and I’m just fine with that. Although, I often wish I could have become this person without the hurt that I had to endure – couldn’t I have made it this far with even just a little less heartache?

Too many times as a kid was I made fun of, called names, and pushed around. I wasn’t the kind of kid that took crap from anyone though, so when I was pushed, I pushed back – but that didn’t make the words and actions hurt any less. Too many times in my life have people walked all over me because I gave them too many chances. Too many times have I been hurt by the people I cared more about than they could ever understand.

            I got close to people. I let them in. I gave them every bit of trust, confidence, and loyalty that I had. They took it all and returned nothing. If you picked on me, I picked back. If you pushed me, I pushed back. If you walked all over me, I broke down.

            My friends would come to me for help and I would drop everything I was doing to help them. When I needed something, the only ones to be found were my family. At the time I didn’t realize how important of a sign this was, but years later I wish I hadn’t been so naïve. I gave everything I had to my “best friends;” my patience, my wisdom, my time, my heart, my love. They took every bit, used it to their liking, and when they took all they could from me, they were very quick to hurt me and move on. I had thought at the time that friends were the family God forgot to give us – boy was I wrong. These kids meant the world to me; I would do anything and everything to make their day just a little brighter. They didn’t understand that when I called them my best of friends, I meant every word. More often than not I had hoped each and every one of them would be attending my wedding – if not part of it. I wholeheartedly believed that they were going to remain an enormous part of my life till the day I die. Truthfully, I was right. The times I’ve spent with them, the times they’ve hurt me, and the time I’ve spent without them has all made me who I am today. Too bad it had to hurt this bad.

            Their cruelty has left me afraid. Since them, I dislike calling anyone my “best friend” – and for the first time in six years I finally referred to people by that term. Moments after letting the words into the world I found myself filled with incredible regret. Quickly, I backed away from those friendships. There’s no way in hell I’ll let myself hurt like that again. I refuse to be walked all over… again. I will not be the same naïve kid I was six years ago.

            I have more acquaintances than I do friends, and the more “friends” that enter my life, the higher my walls build. Lately, I’ve let people in more than usual and it has me filled with fear. As the wall slowly breaks down, I quickly build it back up. For every brick they take down, I rebuild three. I am afraid. I have no desire to relive the friendships I once had. I’ve dealt with enough failing friendships and merciless taunting in my short life, and believe me, there is more to come.