Feelings on a Page

I'm one of those people who hates when other people puts their whole life out for the world to know their drama and everything that comes along with it. It seems immature. Yet, for some reason, I have the urge to do it myself. It's not because I want attention and it's not because I want sympathy; it's because I want people to understand that words really can cut deep.

A few weekends ago, a group of us went camping. We've gone every October for the past few years and it's always been a good time. This year seemed to be different. I have friends. I have people that I know I can talk to and I know they will listen, even if they don't understand. I have a best friend. I know I can go to her with anything and I know she won't go anywhere. I have a boyfriend. I hate calling him that because he's more than that to me. I know he's always right beside me. I know that no matter what the situation is, he's someone I can count on. Then, I have the group of people I thought were my friends. The people that I used to talk to and hang out with. The people who were really nice and didn't seem to mind that we were "friends". Those are the same people who talk behind my back. They are the ones that always hated me all along, but would just put on a face and pretend that we were friends.

I'm a very sensitive person. I can cry at the drop of a hat. If I'm watching a movie and a squirrel dies, the water works turn on. If someone doesn't like me, I would take it much better if they just tell me. Finding out that, for the past few years, I have been majorly disliked by a whole group of people, isn't something that I just roll off of my shoulders. It doesn't feel good.

Like I said, I have my friends. I have my family. I have been blessed with having a family across the street that are both my friends and family. If one person doesn't like me; big deal. If one hundred people don't like me; big deal. God has given me everyone I need in my life and I am so thankful.