Where Did That Little Girl Go?

  In that Christmas party tape, so long ago, I had the whole world in front of me.  Now . . .

People still living with their parents truly don’t realize exactly how lucky they are.  I’m in this apartment and yeah, it’s a Hell of a lot cheaper than New Jersey, but still.  It’s hard to make ends meet.  Add to that, we don’t just have the regular bills, but there’s Rob’s doctor bills and student loansa to think of.  ::Sighs::

I got notes on my previous entry telling me that I should put myself out there, see what friendships I could rekindle or find out which ones I really have, and that if I kept myself ‘hidden’ and ‘forgotten,’ I’d come across as a phony.  I don’t quite get how that one’s figured, but oh, well.

The fact is, I’m sick of putting myself out there and being a friend to people who don’t return the kindness.  Honestly, that’s not everyone I know, but for instance, I honestly don’t know what to think of Colleen.  I mean, a night or two after I talked to Mike, she IMs me.  We talk, she told me what was up with Shannon, Kathy, and the rest of them, even though frankly, I didn’t really care what especially Shannon and Kathy are up to.  I told her about Mike’s and my talk, since she already knew some of it from him.

Then, she IMed me a few days after that.  Since then, nothing.  I get the feeling that the only reason she talked to me in the first place was to corroborate what Mike told her about his and my conversation.  I would love to say that she’s not part of the hive mindset of that group, but she hasn’t bothered talking to me since, so what else am I supposed to think?

To be honest, Dolly’s another person who’s getting on my nerves lately.  I admit, I don’t call her with much frequency just because I know she works the night shift and I don’t want to be interrupting sleep that I know she needs to get through the graveyard shift.  But I do call her every six weeks or so, or try to, just to see if we can talk a bit.  Every single time I do, and I call her land line because I don’t have her cell number programmed in to Rob’s cell, I get her machine.   Every time I’ve gotten it, I’ve left a message, usually with my phone number, asking her to call back when she could.  And she knows I’m a night owl, so it’s no stretch for her to call before she goes to work at ten or eleven pm or whatever time she needs to go.

Yet I’ve never gotten called back.  I want to write to her and ask her what’s up with that, but I honestly don’t know how to in a way that won’t come across as offensive.  Or in a way that is just mentioning the fact, but is something that won’t be miscontrued as offensive.

For the most part, I’m just sick of trying.  Almost nobody seems to see me as someone worth respecting.  No, instead I’m put on the back burner as someone to spend time with, or contact in whatever form, when the person in question has nothing better to do.  I don’t deserve that kind of treatment and frankly, I’ve had it with getting that kind of treatment.  If someone I cared about needed me, I’d, assuming I could, drop everything to be there.  (I’m counting work as something that I’m unable to drop, because unless the person’s going into or is in the hospital, I couldn’t skip out on work.)  But I’d make damned sure to try and call them on a break or whatever. 

Me?  It’s "Oh, yeah, I’ll call you after work."

::Three days go by::

Me: Um . . . what happened to that after work thi–

Them: Oh, sorry, can’t talk now, on my way to/at work!

::Sighs::  I know it sounds like I’m blaming everyone else.  I do admit, I’m not perfect.  In the past, I haven’t always called people back, I wasn’t always around for people if they needed someone.  But there also were plenty of times when I was.  When I’d get a card or balloon for someone’s birthday.  That one summer, every birthday of someone at Game Factory that passed, I brought them a balloon when we were all gathered at the store.  Colleen, Shannon, (tells you this was a few years ago,) even Mike Keller!  You know who got me a balloon for that Thursday closest to my birthday at Game Factory?  Me.  I admit, Mike put together something of a "party" for me, but he didn’t even halt the D&D playing for that week, so about three hours was spent with them rolling dice and writing on papers at the table outside and me, alone in the pool.

It’s not like I want to be cynical about the people I care about.  It’s just for the most part, I’m wondering if they’re worth caring about.  And I know how it sounds, but I don’t mean that insultingly.  It’s just . . . after the results I’ve had, when you completely give everything in your mind and emotional state to someone else and it ends the way things did . . .  I don’t want to give that much of myself up again.  I don’t feel like that mcuh of myself was lost, rather I feel like everything there took too much out of me.  I don’t have that much left to give.  So why should I keep trying when others don’t extend that same courtesy, respect, and friendship to me?