05 December 2007
♥ here's rooting for karma.
It's been a long time since I felt like everything in my life was under control, and I've had this frustrating feeling like it wasn't getting any better. This week, I've finally started to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but today reminded me just why it seems so far away.
There are plenty of reasons to be tired right now--I've lost my voice, I still have that damn cold, and I was at school for something like ten hours today--but number one is gossip.
Don't get me wrong, I love gossip as much as the next girl. I like knowing everything about everyone. I find other people's fallacies to be fascinating, probably because they distract me from my own.
At the end of the summer I would have done anything to put a stop to the rumor mill. One of the most painful experiences of my life had just taken place, and I felt completely alone as I started to pick up the pieces. The fact that everyone knew about it--and that everyone was calling me a liar--certainly didn't help.
But as the school year wore on, I started to forget how upset I'd been about those nasty little rumors, about those cruel words that stick with you wherever you go. I stopped resenting the people who spread them, and I figured it made the most sense to figure I'd made the same mistake, let bygones be bygones.
Because let's face it: it's hard to be mature about things like that... I'm not. When you hear something so delightfully juicy, something that just makes someone seem so awful, of course your first instinct (and maybe your second and third) is to tell anyone who will listen. Everyone's done it.
This rumor is relatively unimportant in the scheme of things. It's not about anything life-changing; in fact, some might even argue it's not a negative thing they're saying about me. But the truth of the matter still stings: people are talking about me, and they don't have anything nice to say.
I could spend hours brooding over who started it, over who could possibly hear it, over whether it will affect my relationship with Matt, and so forth, and I'd be lying if I told you I wouldn't be giving this any thought.
But why waste my time? Rumors start because of jealousy and spite, and do I really want to lower myself to that level? I'm happy, I have amazing friends and a boyfriend I'm crazy about and things are finally starting to go my way. I didn't really need this little crack in my shell, but at the end of the day, I guess it doesn't really matter at all.
I'm annoyed; no, I'm pissed. I'm pissed that someone I thought was my friend (I guess I should have known better all along, since all those months ago) is spreading nasty rumors about me. I'm pissed that people believe it, and I'm not sure exactly who to blame, which also pisses me off. In fact, I can't really think of much that isn't bothering me right now.
But what can I really do, except keep on trucking and remember that what goes around comes around.
There are plenty of reasons to be tired right now--I've lost my voice, I still have that damn cold, and I was at school for something like ten hours today--but number one is gossip.
Don't get me wrong, I love gossip as much as the next girl. I like knowing everything about everyone. I find other people's fallacies to be fascinating, probably because they distract me from my own.
At the end of the summer I would have done anything to put a stop to the rumor mill. One of the most painful experiences of my life had just taken place, and I felt completely alone as I started to pick up the pieces. The fact that everyone knew about it--and that everyone was calling me a liar--certainly didn't help.
But as the school year wore on, I started to forget how upset I'd been about those nasty little rumors, about those cruel words that stick with you wherever you go. I stopped resenting the people who spread them, and I figured it made the most sense to figure I'd made the same mistake, let bygones be bygones.
Because let's face it: it's hard to be mature about things like that... I'm not. When you hear something so delightfully juicy, something that just makes someone seem so awful, of course your first instinct (and maybe your second and third) is to tell anyone who will listen. Everyone's done it.
This rumor is relatively unimportant in the scheme of things. It's not about anything life-changing; in fact, some might even argue it's not a negative thing they're saying about me. But the truth of the matter still stings: people are talking about me, and they don't have anything nice to say.
I could spend hours brooding over who started it, over who could possibly hear it, over whether it will affect my relationship with Matt, and so forth, and I'd be lying if I told you I wouldn't be giving this any thought.
But why waste my time? Rumors start because of jealousy and spite, and do I really want to lower myself to that level? I'm happy, I have amazing friends and a boyfriend I'm crazy about and things are finally starting to go my way. I didn't really need this little crack in my shell, but at the end of the day, I guess it doesn't really matter at all.
I'm annoyed; no, I'm pissed. I'm pissed that someone I thought was my friend (I guess I should have known better all along, since all those months ago) is spreading nasty rumors about me. I'm pissed that people believe it, and I'm not sure exactly who to blame, which also pisses me off. In fact, I can't really think of much that isn't bothering me right now.
But what can I really do, except keep on trucking and remember that what goes around comes around.
12/05/2007
