As I write this article, I am listening to “Confide In Me”, by Kylie Minogue.

I am always listening to music.

It distracts me from the noise of the silence of being alone.

Not that I have an issue with being alone.

Quite the contrary.

I lean more towards preferring solitude a lot of the time.

Yet, that silence got me thinking.

I think.

I think, and think, and think…

It’s what I do.

It’s both my kryptonite, and my super-power.

As “enlightened” as I would have myself believe, I am a slave to my thoughts.

And it got me thinking about when people ask that generic question that we so often ask each other, out of courtesy.

“How are you?”

What is it, that those that are asking, how we are, will hope the answer will be?

That we are good?

That we are suffering?

Are we in the habit of saying that all is right in our world, for the sake of others, when in reality, it is far from anything but?

What if we got in the habit of answering things honestly, and we gave a truthful answer as to how we TRULY are feeling?

I have found this coming up for me a number of times over the past week or so.

And if I were to be completely honest, I am not good.

Far from it, in fact.

I am currently in the midst of a financial separation with my ex-husband, and it’s not going as I had anticipated.

In fact, I am heartbroken over the way that it is currently unfolding.

I am potentially naively, and in a state of utter despair, that after having shared a lifetime with someone, that it has come to what it currently has.

But like my younger sister told me once I had made the decision to finally leave my marriage, “you don’t really know someone until you divorce them”.

And there is more weight to that statement than anyone could conceivably comprehend.

And so, when someone who is not amongst those that I have on the list of being those that have my heart; amongst the special people that I “count on one hand” – when they generically ask me how I am, I am also a little heartbroken about their response when I am vulnerable and totally open in answering that question.

And on account of being transparent, I have discovered, that there are two types of “friends” in this world.

The first type, are “true friends.

Your cheerleader.

They support you.

They hold your hand.

They dry your tears.

They reassure you that everything is going to be “ok”.

And they defend you passionately. Furiously.

They are there for you no matter what.

Without judgement.Without their ego intercepting, and making them want to “win”.

My muse, Paulo Coelho, sums up these two different types of “friends” perfectly:

“Our true friends are those who are with us when the good things happen. They cheer us on and are pleased by our triumphs.”

Our true friends are those that genuinely “have your back”.

Which brings me to the second type of friends.

False friends.

Those that pretend they have your back.

They drip feed you information; they act as though they are your advocate – yet it’s only so that they can have something interesting to talk about.

Because when “push comes to shove”, and when you have put them in a position of actually requesting that they assist you with what you have humiliatingly admitted to them, and that you have pleaded on your knees that you need help with, they drop off the radar, and are nowhere to be found.

Because they thrive upon the drama.

And sadly a lot of us do.

And without further “adieu”, here is the second part of Paulo Coelho’s quote”

“False friends only appear at difficult times, with their sad, supportive faces, when, in fact, our suffering is serving to console them for their miserable lives.”

It’s a hard pill to swallow when we finally open our eyes, and realise that all aspects of life consist of these polarities.

That one cannot possibly co-exist without the other.

As I wrapped up this article, I googled the lyrics to the song title that I have chosen to label this article with.

“We all get hurt by love
And we all have our cross to bear
But in the name of understanding now
Our problems should be shared”

I am contradictorily a deeply private person.

Yet I am compelled to share my story with others. As I hope it helps to set other people free. In whatever way you want to look at it.

Lately, I have been quite enamoured with the late philosopher, Allan Watts.

Before I published this article, I posted a quote to all of my social media outlets, from Allan Watts.

“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.” – Alan W. Watts

In all of my writing, I truly hope with all of my heart, that with all of my successes and fuck-ups, that I am able to tell you something that will save you from yourself. That none of it has been experienced in vain.

And with regards to the two different types of people that I personally believe exist in this world?

Keep your wits about you.

Use that intuition of yours, and only confide in those that you know that truly “have your back”. That do not take pleasure from your temporary misery.

Find your advocate, and confide in them.

And if you were so inclined?

You can always confide in me 🙂



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