New beginnings are hard to appreciate when you don't know what your old ends are like. How can you know if the next piece of yarn you pick up is a different color than the last piece, if you were knitting with your eyes closed before you ran out of yarn?
Old friends can be the fluffiest pillows to fall back on, or they can be the sharpest spikes; It's all in how you make them, and how you hold them.

If I'm to be honest, I thought I had pillows all around me. I thought I was graced with Lady Luck in a time I so desperately needed her, because I thought my friends were silk covered down pillows, always around me. I thought I was there for them just as they were for me, but looking back I have to kick myself. They were pillows, just as I thought. But how I handled them... used them... I made them into Railroad spikes, and positioned them straight at my heart. It was suicide. Relationship suicide. I gave them everything they needed to hurt me, and then told all the right lies at all the right times. Thinking so highly of myself, I felt they deserved me. I felt I was the best there was, and flaunted myself as such. I may have lured more people to me with that attitude, but to what end? I've hurt each and every one of them to the core. They came back for a while, but how long could they honestly have stayed, when every look, every word, every message was screaming I was better than them. And then I even had the audacity to think that when their lives were finally looking up, that they didn't deserve it as much as I did. That I had been through so much more than them, and should be treated as such. Looking back now, I realize I was wrong. So, very, wrong. I made them alright, just like I thought. But I couldn't take it away from them like I believed. Instead, they were the ones to take it all away from me. They didn't look back, and they didn't regret anything. Which, of course, I can't blame them for. All the walking I did on them, why should they look back? To pity me? To love me? To hate me? Their shoulders said so much more than any words or emotions they expressed ever could have.

I wish on a lot of things lately. 11:11. The stars at night. 12:34. Birthdays. Christmas. The wind. If it's something I see, and think I understand, I wish on it. I don't wish for happiness, for myself or others. I wish for things I want. How selfish of me, right? I say I'm such a great person, and oh so selfless now, and I'm changed... But how true is all of that really, if I am always wishing for things to give myself, that in reality would take something away from someone else; Deserving or not. I can't be the judge of who is worthy and who is not, that's for the Fates to decide. Karma will tell me when I am deserving, and when I am not. But it can't give me anything I feel I deserve until I feel I deserve nothing. Even now, saying I am such an awful person... I still want so much. I want to hug this person, I want to talk to that person, I want to have this, I want to have that, Why does this person have what I want, what I deserve...

I want to ask for pity, I want to ask you to tell me I'm just fooling myself, I want you to tell me that I'm an amazing person that gives you hope... And as long as I want things, I will never be the amazing person I want you to see.

I make excuses, I pardon myself, I claim it's the fault of someone else, I make you believe I am honestly too busy to see you simply because I want five more minutes to myself in peace.

I want to apologize to someone. Someone very important to me, that I have repeatedly hurt, and deeply so. He has been such a... Pillar... In my life. He's been there when I needed him, even when I could tell he didn't want to be. He's been there when I wanted him, even when he was busy. He has truly been the most selfless person I know, especially when he has his "Me" moments. When he wants to be alone, he still puts up with company. When he wants nothing more than to wrap up and ignore the world, he opens his eyes and feigns alertness to keep his friends happy. I've hurt him to the point that... With what he said today... and the hurt I saw in his eyes... I wanted to cry, but that would have been selfish. I wanted to drop to my knees and sob because I knew I had let him down, but that would have been inappropriate, and again I wanted those things. I don't remember saying the things he said I did... I want to make sense of it, so I can go to him and feel I am being honest when I tell him, "I said those things, and I knew I shouldn't have. I made you a promise that was mine to keep, about a secret that was yours to keep. Yet still, I shared it. I can't say I'm sorry, that means nothing from me anymore. But I feel remorse, if that is any better. I hurt yet again, knowing I hurt you in another way, and as the different ways add up I realize I wasn't the great friend I could have been... SHOULD have been. I AM sorry, even if it means nothing..."

The sadest thing in the world is that I can't say that to him. I can't tell him I'm sorry, I can't tell him I feel bad, I can't tell him anything really without it sounding like yet ANOTHER lie. I don't remember what happened, HONESTLY, and that kills me. I'm sure my pain about it is nothing at all compared to his, in fact I KNOW it's nothing. This secret was his, and his alone, to share with whom he felt when he felt he was ready; Not before...
Hearing myself stumble around my words, trying to stutter out an apology... I realized how fake I sounded. I wasn't trying to sound fake, I wasn't trying to sound like anything. I was trying to remember when I shared his secret with her... When? Where? If I could even get an image of her face when I told her, I could remember... But I can't. I can't remember anything of those times, those... supposedly happy times, the times when I had my silk pillows to cling to. I can't remember hardly anything of what I was like, what I was thinking, what I said, or to whom. It frustrates me to no end because I KNOW I was an awful person, and I KNOW I said things I shouldn't have, and left unspoken the things that mattered... But for the life of me I can't bring to the forefront any of those memories. It's like... I've closed my eyes and gone groping in a cooler of soft drinks so long that my fingers are numb, and I'm trying to find the one Pepsi can amongst a sea of Cokes. They all feel the same, and I can't open my eyes to see what I have. I can hardly feel them because I'm so numb from searching. Then I'm absolutely frustrated, because I want that Pepsi can, so I can say I am sorry for putting it with the Cokes, and toss it out, and start making amends... but still I can't find that can.

I feel selfish for crying right now. I feel selfish for wanting to do the things I'm going to. But I'm going to be selfish, if it means somethings gets done. It means nothing to the people I've hurt, but for myself, I feel I have to do this. I have to search for that Pepsi. I have to find it, even if I have to dive into the cooler with my whole body.

But I feel I need to do this, for myself.

For my hypocritical, egotistical, selfish Self.