Perhaps I don’t have to. Actually, I know I don’t.
But there’s this pride in my heart, and I can’t shake it off. And if you know me well, you do know that my pride is my prized possession.
A really good friend of mine said last week, “What would I do without you? What would I do without the strong and grounded Vin?”
Oh yes, Vin is my nickname.
Well, what would she do without me? I could imagine a lot. My friend is a strong woman, and I don’t know why she thinks she needs me.
But for whatever reason, she thinks she does. And I have to be strong for her.
I have to be strong when she or someone else complains about her love problems. About that guy who treats her horribly or the guy who is a two timer. I have to hold back whatever pain I have, however painful it is, and put a smile on my face. I have to teach my eyes how to lie and show that I am alright.
“No. I am fine. Let’s have you talk your heart out.”
I have to be strong when someone makes me listen to some cool songs or watch an interesting movie that reminds me so much of my pain. I have to laugh when they laugh, smile at their jokes, and numb my heart until it’s over.
I have to hold it in when they try to give me empty advice or criticize certain things I do. I can’t blame them for not knowing who I really am; I don’t show it. I can’t blame them for seeing what they want to see; their eyes are theirs. And I am only willing to show my surface.
I learn how to say little about how I feel about anything. I have to cover up the cracks and the blood. And I have to pretend as if nothing bothers me.
I learn how to not cry, to close my eyes for few seconds and move on, and to brainwash myself into numbness.
And sometimes I look in the mirror and remember my friends, those calling me their rock. Those who cry on my shoulders and hold my hands.
Then I say, “I have to be strong for you.”
But who am I looking at then? You my friends? Or is it the girl in the mirror?