Headfucked

I don't think any of us ever really know what to expect in life, but I do know I certainly didn't expect this... 

My 'friend', Blake, died of cancer April 8th 2014. I recieved a phone call from his mother on Thursday 10th to be told that unfortunately he had passed away as he never really fully recovered from the coma they put him in. This news, naturally, devastated me as I had just found out I hast lost one of my best friends - or so I thought...

After hearing from people how sorry they were to hear of Blake's death and the whole spiel of how 'everything will be ok', someone asked me; "how do you even know he is dead?" And of course, with it still being so raw and me being so angry that cancer had taken yet another precious life, I responded in a rather less than civil manner. However, it got me thinking... I was awake all night last night going over and over everything in my head, and it all added up. The lies, the excuses, everything - had I been catfished but by someone who was real? Maybe he wasn't really dead, but how would I ever find out?

After pondering this all night, I decided that all I could do was make a fake account; pretend to be someone else in the hopes I could string him along. So I did. I made a fake account, used a rather beautiful girl as my profile picture (which of course I feel awful for using someone elses pictures) and messaged him. Of course I was hoping nothing would happen as this was the boy I had been grieving for, but sure enough, when I awoke there was a reply. Being completely shocked and stunned, and rather confused, I decided that now I would have to keep it up. We were talking, and are talking now and plan to skype tomorrow - I want him to feel as let down and hurt as I did when I found that someone, a very good friend, had said possibly one of the sickest things I've ever heard. He also lied about his age, he told me he was 17, yet told 'me' he's 18. I know that seems rather small, but when you have gotten this close to someone and planned so much together, it hurts more than you would think. I mean, he lied about having cancer, and then dying, when he knows that I myself as well as many people have lost family members or friends to the sickening disease. 

I feel so sick; so confused; hurt but most of all, angry. Angry that he would want to hurt me after everything I did for him. I tried so hard to make him happy when I thought he was dying. I will skype him tomorrow, and I cannot wait to see his reaction when he sees me sat there - he will have no alternative ultimatum but to give me the answers I so righteously deserve. 

I suppose that's the beauty of the internet, or rather the uglyness of it. You can be whoever you want to be. You can lead whatever life, be whatever age, anything - you can lie about anything. 

Ferocious Circle Of Lies

I was finished today, for no apparent reason. Although I must admit, I knew it was going to happen eventually, so I managed to prepare myself and I'm not even that upset really. It was sort of inevitable, us breaking up, because we were so different. I tried my best to fix us and make effort with him but he never did. People make out that it is so easy, this whole 'relationship' thing, but to me it's just an unessesary label which eventually, turns to shit. I can't count the number of times he drowned me in pretty words, and I fell for it all as usual...

 When someone says to you they want to be with you forever, you can almost believe them in their sincerity, but it's too far fetched. I mean, nothing lasts 'forever', does it? And the possible thought of their passion for you carrying on after life is just absurd. But, nevertheless, when the person you care for says this to you, it makes you feel worthy. And then when they turn around just over a week later with their bullshit "It's just not the same anymore", it makes you doubt everything they ever said. Did you really love me? Did you honestly care? I don't think you did. If this was your shoddy little attempt at trying to get into my pants, then you failed, miserably at that. 

So I congratulate you, Conor, on managing to be the ultimate arsehole and feeding me the same lies all guys like you say to get what you want. The thing is, I will eventually find someone who makes me feel good and makes me happy and wants to make the effort with me, but you've blown our chance - you've also removed someone from your life who cared a great deal for you and you'll never find a person willing to make as much effort for you as I. So well done for that, too. Well done for fucking it up, I hope you enjoy your sad little life; caring for no one but yourself. Now I can concentrate on the people that genuinely do care about me, because I don't need people like you in my life. 

Goodbye, Conor. 

The Fault In Our Stars

I've just finished reading The Fault In Our Stars, after purchasing it on Thursday, and it's fair to say I have never been more engrossed in anything. It really did make me feel a tonne of emotions: most of which were negative. It honestly made me start thinking about how much we take for granted, just the simplicities; the essentials, but we still all take it for granted - life. Yes, we all have lives, but are we actually living? Are you fullfilling everything you want? Probably not. Also, the very concept of meeting someone, falling in love, and that person being around for the rest of your life. But unfortunately, reality cannot meet with our dreams - our expectations. People will leave; people that mean a lot to you. This book in particular made me realise this, as the boy, Augustus Waters, (who Hazel Grace falls in love with) unfortunately dies from cancer after already surving it once beforehand. I know how it feels to realise someone is slipping away. Every day I wake up and think of how I would love to be able to increase the chance of Blake surviving, but cancer tends to not work like this. No. Instead, cancer thrives off both the sufferers pain and the loved ones pain - it becomes a part of all of you, infesting their body and ruining the person they once were, or as John Green writes, "Cancer just wants to live, too." However, it wants to live inside the person, and to do so it must destroy them.

It's probably fair to say we all wish no one had to suffer from the pain and misery cancer brings, but if it wasn't cancer doing it, it would be something else. I guess I've learnt you just have to accept it; not accept they have it, but accept it is a part of them. You must think of it as a minorty - the cancer isn't dominating of the person. 

I fail to see, too, how telling the sufferers the survival rates of their specific cancer helps. I mean, for example, Blake's cancer holds a survival rate of around 10% and even if you survive, the chances of it coming back and killing you within the next decade is profoundly high. Now, that does no good for anyone. Plus, with his chemo only starting to work after being medically enduced into a coma in order to be blasted with it along with pain killers, it brings even more stress and more worry to everyone's mind. Like, oh, the cancer is doubling at a fast rate? Well hell that must mean he's gonna be that 90% of the meaningful lives the bastard takes! What happened to hope. The doctor's rush staight into telling you the statistics and fail to mention the positives - filling your mind instead with 'this is the end'. 

But I know it isn't. I know that our plans to see each other in June will still go ahead, and I will do all I can for us to forget about the 'C' word which lingers in his body; clinging onto him. And I know he will be one of the 10% to survive this son-of-a-bitch. I just know. He's 17, almost 18, still has his entire life ahead of him and so many plans for his future. 

Blake, 

You will be ok, we both know you will. I cannot promise you this, I can only give you my word. However I can promise that no matter what, I will always be here for you - always. I told you from Day One I wouldn't leave your side and I intend to stick by this. Just wait til June, we will forget all about it and just enjoy the present; that moment as it stands. 

'Attached'

So it has become apparent to me that a lot of people say they care about you, but either fail miserably at their solemn attempts to prove it, or lie in the first place. You see, when I say I 'care' for someone, I mean it. I care for my best friend, Robin, who has to undergo major surgery this summer. I also care for my other friend, Blake, who I only found out a matter of months ago is actually battling cancer and has been for the past 9 months and he never told me. And I care for my boyfriend, who unfortunately, doesn't appear to reciprocate this rather grand gesture on my part. No. It almost seems as if the need to make effort and show he cares has completely dissipated as now he has me, there's no reason to fight to keep me. I'm not really bothered anyway, I mean, I'd love for him to care but I've come to the point where as I have realised that in order to stop yourself from being hurt, you mustn't let yourself become attached to people too easily; it causes pain for everyone involved.

I wish, for my own personal benefit, I could say I'm not 'attached' to anyone: however I do find myself rather attached to Blake, as he seems to be the only person to understand the real me - he shows an interest to my past, present and future, whether he is around for the foreseeable or not. You know, I think I'm growing to strongly dislike the word 'attached', possibly even hate. It is so metaphorically enhanced - so exaggerated -  that its true meaning is becoming lost. I mean, none of us are really 'attached' to anything, are we? It isn't as if we are dependant on said things, we would easily cope without them, we just choose to pick the easy way through everything when really, we are mislead because we are actually picking the more difficult way.

I think this is the reason I shouldn't allow myself to think at this time, my mind pretty much becomes an abyss of emotions, feelings, thoughts and unanswered questions after 12AM. Too much time to think, but not enough time to act upon my thoughts. Oh well, we must all go about our lives, mustn't we? We don't really have any other option, so to speak...

So first rant to myself over, I must stop before I end up writing a thesis about how I believe everything to be misconstrued and true definitions lost.

Goodnight.