Were You Actually My Friend?

I thought for a while, that I was finally safe.

Most of you only saw the aftermath of the wreckage. My heart, body, confidence and soul shattered and splintered. You saw the girl desperately trying to keep herself together with scotch tape when she needed something that'd bond it all back together with something stronger than gorilla glue. You tried, but - this was something I needed to fix on my own.

Some of you knew me before I got to this version of myself. You knew various versions of me over the years, some better than what I am now. Some were much worse. You've watched me perish in the flame of the Pheonix only to watch me rise again from its ashes, time and time again. I was grateful you were by my side all of these years.

Some of you knew me during the wreckage. Not knowing the previous fires of hellscapes I've lived through. Only watching in dismay at the glimpses you got of the current one I was in. You kept me company when I was close to death and lonely, wondering where I went wrong in life.

I loved you all in ways that I can't find the words to explain. I was so grateful that I had friends all over the gender spectrum that actually cared for me, and wanted to see me safe. How many of you encouraged me to leave, but didn't judge me for when I stayed in the arms of someone who hated me and took pride in hurting me.

But in the end, I have a heavy heart with most of the men in my life. In turn, I'm upset with myself for not seeing it, either. I thought our friendship was just that, friends. I genuinely thought that it didn't matter what gender, that anyone and everyone could be genuine friends without ulterior motives. I didn't think that when I finally escaped hell, my friends would be the sharks trailing the blood in the water.

I'm learning that heartbreak has a specific scent.

Which comes with having its very own set of predators.

I've been pretty clear since the break-up that I have zero intention of dating anyone for the foreseeable future. That I was broken. That I have cycles to break and things to unlearn. I was incredibly distraught, jilted, among other things. I was intensely emotionally unavailable for anything but friends. I've been in multiple forms of therapy, and on a waitlist for even more.

I asked you all to tell me if I crossed a boundary beyond the line of friends. Because I wasn't capable of interest, and after two years of being policed on everything I've said - the lines of saying too little and too much were intensely blurry. Nobody said anything. I took great care into not leading people on, asking professionals and safe indvidiuals if something I said was out of line. At the end of the day, I really don't want to hurt anyone, especially my friends.

It's been 6 months since I've been out of that relationship, and I have lost all trust in a lot of the people around me.

How many of you came into my life pretending to care and be my friend, only to have the chance to sleep with me? Or the slim possibility of something more? How many of you came into this friendship with selfish intentions? How many of you just stayed around with the hope that I'd date you? How many of you just stuck around, hoping that one day I'd change my mind? How many of you have I told no, not interested time and time again, and yet you tried persistently? Why did it take me breaking down and crying for a number of you to get that I said no?

The complete and utter disrespect hurts. If roles were reversed, there would be no way in hell I'd even think of disrespecting your boundaries like that. But as they say, you'll break your own heart for expecting people to have the same heart you do.

I've been intensely clear that I'm not interested in anything other than friends. If you knew anything of who I am or what I've been through in the past, you'd know just how high of a pedestal I put my friends on. You'd also know just how deep my issues with trust run.

But here I am, wondering just how many of you were just preying on my vulnerability. If you had good intent originally, or if you always had selfish intentions. That because I was so distraught and hurt, it was an easy way in. I curse myself for being so blind.

This is a brand new wound that has evoked reactions from me that I've never expected. In some situations, you all proved my ex-loves right. Men and women can't be friends. I fought so hard to maintain that my friends were just friends because that was the impression I was under.

Now I feel stupid. There is this dark room in my head coated in an inky black that is filled with abusers, exes, almosts, past friends that are just cackling maniacally at how stupid I look. How I fought so hard to maintain the fact that I truly believed woman and men could be friends and it wouldn't be weird. That I think so low of myself. How much of an oblivious dumbass I am. How my past relationships were never actually that bad. That my abusers weren't isolating me from friends, they all had ulterior motives. It was the truth. Now, how dramatic are you actually being about the whole relationship? Maybe things weren't that bad, maybe he didn't - maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe --

This is what I've been battling in my head. Not that most of you actually cared. Not one of you waited till I was ready and emotionally available. Most of you already knew I would say no. Some of you, I've said no repeatedly already, stating the same reasons as before.

I wasn't ready.

Thank you for showing your true colours. Because some of you deserve the door slammed shut in your face so fucking hard. Some of you I've lost trust in completely, and I don't know if I should salvage the friendships or what to do. Either way, I don't feel respected. I'm questioning if anything was real.

All I know is, that I'm not apologizing for choosing myself. I'm not ready, and I want to be healthy and happy before I ever give myself to someone ever again. I want to be able to love without ghosts of past hurt constantly haunting my mind. I want a good life for myself because I did not deserve the way I was treated. I want to be able to choose someone healthy and that loves me that I can share a life with.

Unfortunately, I don't think that person will be any of you.