I used to hang out with this group of people.*
*I guess we all used to hang out with “this group of people.” We’ve all hung out with multiple groups of people at multiple stages of our lives. But this group is THE group in this story. Blogception.
As I was saying, I hung out with this group of people in college who I thought I would be with for the rest of my life. I don’t mean to imply copious orgies or polygamy plans; it’s just that we were so close-knit, and I loved every one of them to bits. Naturally, I thought that bond would be forever ’cause I wanted it forever. I always want things forever, even though I know human forevers are only like 90 years or some unremarkable bullshit like that.
I mean, I should have known it wouldn’t have lasted. I only knew them because I was dating “one of them,” and he didn’t seem that into me after a still-undefinable point in our relationship. That didn’t stop me from loving him and them and everything we did together.
We formed a little family for a short time (and I do mean short — less than a year), then in an instant, we were strangers. We burned out, I suppose, which isn’t surprising; we were drunk over half the time. Once, I got so dehydrated after drinking approximately an 18-pack of Bud Light, they had to take me to the hospital the next day. Bonding ‘n shit.
And yeah, I’m sure the substances at play didn’t help. Neither did the volatile relationship in the middle of it all. But years later, looking through photos that bring up as many bad memories as good, I realize it’s because we were all just situational buds. You know… people who wanted things, but we needed each other to get ’em. Maybe it didn’t start out that way; I know I started out with the best of intentions. But midway through our fucked up family formation, it became that toxic kind of parasite-host bond until we all dried each other up because we’d each made it to our selfish, secret little finish lines.
I wanted to love someone, so I did.
He wanted to want to love someone, so he tried.
I wanted him to reconsider, so I played cool to his friends.
They wanted new blood, so they let me in.
I wanted to be heard, so I opened up.
We wanted each other, so we had each other.
We wanted to be best friends, so we were.
He wanted to be alone, so he left.
I wanted to keep the others, so I held tight.
They wanted to keep him, so they let go.
I wanted them back, so I tried.
She wanted him instead, so she wouldn’t let them.
I needed to heal my broken heart, so I left. I left all of them.
They never wanted me the way I wanted them, so they never said “come back, come back.”