I’ve spent the last several weeks knowing I had to end my “Friendship” with the man I have been deeply and most emphatically in love with for the past two years. So of course, I’m not in the best head space (to put it mildly). We were never actually friends. I not sure what we were. Whatever it was ended up tainted from the beginning when I clearly felt something more and he didn’t. We cannot be the people we want the other to be. It’s the best for both of us. I still love him. I always will. But in listening to the eight billion George Michael spins I have listened to since Christmas Day, I keep coming back to this song. Released in that ambiguous period between his time in Wham! and the beginning of his solo career, it has spoken to me on a level I never felt before. “Turn a different corner and we never would have met. Would you care?” You can’t possibly miss someone you never met.
I wish the pain would stop.
This year, when I post something depressing, I’ve made it my resolution to post a song, hopefully from the same artist, that inspires or at least makes me feel a bit better. George though gave me a song I consistently listen to so I can centre myself. “Freedom ’90” is entirely about finding your authentic self in an increasingly image conscious world. I grew up being very aware of how I was being perceived, and desperate for approval from someone, I became whatever people wanted. Years of therapy and bipolar disorder has made being my authentic self a necessity, though I’m still working on accepting what that is. I’m no longer willing to hide the nastier sides of my illness, and some people aren’t comfortable with that. I can try not to be taken down by my disease, but it is hard work, I sometimes fail at it, and many people who try to be supportive end up failing in doing so because it’s so misunderstood and instead of educating themselves they buy into what TV and films tell them, or expect me to snap out of it because it’s like a mood swing, right?
I tried to walk away from my relationship with this guy three times in six months, but i stayed because he wanted to be friends. I knew what it could potentially do to me when I agreed. I did this to myself, and I have no one else to blame for my situation.
So after listening to “A Different Corner” and crying, I turn to “Freedom ’90” and try to regain some of my self-worth. It hurts so much because I love him. Much of what he tells me is true, but he’s not talking to my rational self right now. He’s talking to my illness, which does not work off logic and sense, but is an insidious and dangerous being that is intent on destroying me. It’s my battle to fight and try to win. My major depressive states have been fewer and farther between in my thirties than they were in my twenties, and hopefully my forties will be better than that. That’s a lot of fucking hard work on my part. The only reason I ended up in this situation is because of my own feelings and m own impulsive nature. I’m the reason for my misery and I know it. So I need to rebuild however I can.
I have to thank “the guy” though. He taught me several valuable lessons.
Think I’m gonna find me some happy. Tell me again, George.