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Best friend. This was a term I held close to me since young. Having a best friend provided me with a platform to share my thoughts, without being subjected to any judgement. However, a forced change in environment compelled me into making a new best friend, which was especially difficult during our teenage years. Within a few days of uncertainty in secondary school, I found someone whom I was comfortable being around. For that alone, I felt a strong liking towards her and we naturally became best friends. I don’t know when it started.
Although we continued talking everyday, my gut instincts told me that we were no longer close. I realised that she was not someone who would tell me “I’m here for you” whenever I was feeling nervous. I always had to be the first one to apologise in this friendship. However, I kept convincing myself that I was over-paranoid and it was just her personality.I never knew that I was barely a friend to her until I saw her message which wrote, “I’m trying so hard not to hate you already, but you keep testing my patience”. This unexpected change threw my life out of balance all of a sudden. For the next few days, I lived in denial, trapping myself in “jail”, trying my best to hypnotise myself to believe that it was not meant to be a personal attack. Deep down, I knew that it was because I did not want to start all over again, rather I believed that I didn’t have the capability to do so. I was uncomfortable striking a conversation with someone else; I was afraid of being labelled as “tryhard”; I could not believe that my safe haven had been destroyed overnight. I hated her, to the extent I wanted to cut off everything I had in common with her. When others told me that I became more extreme, I reacted in a hostile manner, because I did not want to admit that I had changed from being hurt emotionally. For the longest time, going to school was a torture. I had to constantly act strong, because I felt that everyone was mocking me for being ditched by my best friend. It just struck me one day, after months of denial, that I was no longer the former me. I had become extremely exclusive and even aggressive. I enclosed myself in my own tiny social circle and locked up my private thoughts.
I realised I was no longer as patient and well-mannered than I was before. The majority of people would view such changes in my personality as negative, but I chose to admit them because I knew even I would despise myself if I did not do so. I’ve changed, and pain made me that way. It was not until I admitted the alterations in my personality and the environment I was in that I was able to redefine myself. Most people are unwilling to acknowledge change, because they fear judgement and failure. Things might end up better, or worse, who knows? But if we avoid change, then we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, then we aren’t really living. Trapping a living soul in the past is not a wise thing to do. Embrace change.
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