It's unfair to call it that, really, since we often don't do any studying. For the most part the occasional meetings turn into much-needed therapy sessions, and that's what makes them so great. I think we just use "studying" as an excuse to set aside time to talk. No one ever really calls anyone to just "talk" anymore. Conversations that last from sunset to sunrise (in person, over the phone or the internet) are a rarity these days, at least they have been for me.
It's easy to accept that relationships between people are bound to change, but sometimes they change so abruptly that you don't know when or why it happened. One day you're exchanging heartaches and dreams, and in the next moment you're fighting for 5 minutes of chitchat that sometimes mere effort can no longer support. Or sometimes the change occurs so slowly that you don't realize it. Now you can't remember the last conversation you had with someone. The whens and whys can become obsessively harsh; so hurtful sometimes that you can't function without wondering if perhaps you've done something wrong or haven't done enough; or maybe you've just lost interest in someone's life or they've lost interest in yours.
The brush fires of anxiety are cunning. It's difficult to extinguish an inferno when you're feeding it a combustion of fear, doubt and bitterness. When the waters of patience, acceptance and forgiveness flow weakly, sometimes the only way to keep yourself safe (and sane) is to step away from the flame completely, and hope that beneath the stonecold charred remains, there breathes a glowing ember strong enough to provide warmth and guidance in desolate times, yet gentle enough to prevent further explosions. Playing with fire never proved so dangerous, and so emotionally draining.
Thanks, babygirl, for yet another eye-opening session of pure, unadulterated, obscene honesty. I can't get enough of those.
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