Fact or Fiction

The month of January has not been a very pleasant one. Of course it started with the appendicitis and it has gone downhill from there.

Most recently, a close friendship of mine has ended, for the best. Details aside, we are on two different playing fields. Our views of the world are very different and for some reason that meant that we cannot be friends.

In addition to that, my blog is apparently fiction and laughable. (Laughable was used in a more cynical and snide manner.) I still haven’t quite figured out what that meant. I certainly don’t make up things to write about. I don’t pretend to be a different person. So where exactly does the fiction come in?

Is it because I turn the events in my life into something somewhat entertaining so they can be shared in a manner that will make people laugh or help them relate. Or, is it because I can say things in my blog that some might think but can’t say? Last time I checked, that is not the definition of fiction.

While this shouldn’t bother me, it does because that is who I am. People say things to me and I stew on them. I evaluate them and reevaluate them and analyze them until my brain explodes into a million little pieces. That is just how it is. But, I learn a little bit every day…

At first, I wanted to shout ‘fuck you’ from the top of my lungs and say ‘fine, forget it’ and shut my blog down. That would give me more focus on my life and what is truly real. But then I started thinking, ‘No friggin’ way. No one is going to run me away because of a few snide words. especially someone who doesn’t understand blogs or me for that matter.“

So, now I sit here writing about this, openly, truly and without an ounce of fiction, AS ALWAYS.

But, even through all the shrouds of shit I have waded through in the past 29 days, I am happy. I feel good, strong, loved and proud. I make mistakes in my life daily. I make bad decisions daily. So why should I feel so proud? I feel proud because I love with all of my heart. I might be many things including selfish, judgmental, bitchy and lazy but I can still rest my head at night knowing that I have a big heart and that I truly care about things that other people pass by every day without a glance.

I’m certainly not perfect and probably hypocritical in many ways as well… but I’m still proud that I am who I am and that I’m open to change and compromise and can admit my own mistakes. I can own my own mistakes.

And I certainly don’t throw away friends because of the mistakes they make in their own lives. I love them in spite of their mistakes.