To My Best Friend

Today is my best friend’s birthday. We’ve known each other for six years (and counting), and there’s not a day I’m not grateful for her.

We don’t see or even speak to each other much because of what goes on in our own lives, but we try. The one thing that makes me miss my high school years is we walked home together every day. And besides that, those years can die in a fire.

I don’t know what she thinks of herself, but I know what I think of her:

  • She is a wonderfully kind and strong person who works hard and deserves her dreams more than anyone I know.
  • She’s an inspiration to me. Seeing her get ahead with her life makes me happy for and motivates me to keep going with mine.
  • She’s fierce. She doesn’t give up. But she’s kind. She doesn’t stomp on those beneath her.
  • She loves to help others and she gives herself a lot. Sometimes, even if it means putting her needs behind for a bit.
  • But she knows what she deserves. She knows she shouldn’t be treated unfairly.
  • She gives her all in what she does. From a high school student to a regular worker, that hasn’t changed.

She’s someone to be admired and I’m so glad our friendship didn’t falter as high school friendships typically do after graduation. Whatever her goals are, she has me behind her.

Happy birthday, Jen.

Need For Comfort?

I will tell you a secret. Don’t tell anyone. Want to hear? Come closer. Shhh.

I like to write stories.

GASP!

They’re not serious or professional stories. Some of them are created with my sims game. But one thing that is common for many of them is the characters, whether I made them up or they’re from another series, tend to be given tragedies.

For example, some time ago, I started a new legacy in my game. However, after enjoying another challenge, I changed the character from namelessly starting alone to having left her home with her little sister due to sexual abuse and now having to support herself and sister while homeless.

All of these types of stories end happily, but I wonder why I write this way. Some of my characters’ pasts, such as the one I described above, are truly horrid. In real life, they’d require years of therapy, possibly a lifetime, whereas in my stories, they require little more than having support from close friends and a shoulder to cry on periodically.

I’m not sure where this comes from, but I feel like part of the reason is I myself don’t have anybody I can count on in the way I allow my characters. I don’t have someone who understands my mind and thoughts. I don’t have someone I can be certain to receive support from, whether I’m hurting or I’m struggling to decide something. And I wish I did.

Rarely are these stories intentionally written this away. They are not my first idea, which is why I further believe they’re basically a manifestation of my desire for comfort and support, and lacking it.

I do the same with actual people. When I imagine myself telling someone about a problem I have, I typically imagine them understanding or being supportive to some extent, despite knowing in actuality, they’d be anything but. I believe people tend to subconsciously fantasize positively, whether or not they know ahead of time what the real outcome will be.

Even a minor character in a story I write can have a depressing history, as in one of my stories for an original character I made based on my favorite series. The minor character talks the main one out of suicide by telling about how she overcame her past and the sole reason she has that past is to serve as tool to prevent the protagonist from dying. The minor character is completely random. She will likely never appear in any future story, yet I gave her a huge, tragic history for the sole purpose of being able to relate to someone else.

I am not sure if this healthy or not. Obviously, it’s much better than pushing myself toward unsupportive people and forming false attachment, but it also makes me think my mind is ill, as this doesn’t seem normal.