ThisIBelieve

I used to believe in lots of things. In friends, family, parents, true love... you know: the whole dreamer's package. I believed in Karma: that when you did good things, good things happened to you. I believed in trust and reliance. But that's all over because I guess I know better. This is why writing an essay about what I believe in is so hard.

Not believing. I believe in not believing. I believe that it's okay not to believe in something: to know when to stop trusting in things as futile as "you did something good so nothing bad can happen."

In my life, I have been hurt and disappointed by almost everyone. I was betrayed by just about everyone and true love... sure enough that didn't work out either. I got things I didn't deserve while I watched those who hurt me so much get away with everything. That's when I stopped believing in everything. I'm tired of being a surrealist; trusting things because of my own lack of judgment and naiveté.

I had this friend; tall, very talkative and reasonably sweet too. She wasn't what I'd call a close friend though, more of a friendly acquaintance. This girl had a boyfriend, a good friend of mine.What I would call a close friend. Nothing too serious between them, because, let's face it: a relationship in seventh grade really doesn't mean anything. One day they broke up. I suppose I did feel quite bad for her (and him) but I didn't really make much of it because it was my belief that everything happens for a reason. This was going to be their problem and I'd be there in case anyone needed any moral support. He seemed to need more of it than she did so I was there, as any good friend would. Weeks later, rumors began to circulate about me and quickly enough I came to know that she had started all of them. Jealousy... anger... contempt? No clue whatsoever. I confronted her about it during class and she said that it was nothing and I chose to just let it go. Months later, many more rumors had accumulated about me and there was nothing I could do to stop except for trying to get confessions from someone that seemed to excel in constant denial. Trying to be a good friend ended up making me the center of a gossip forum that seems to be our school. Throughout the year, things mellowed down and rose back up but the hate she felt for me kept quite a steady pace and frankly, I really didn't care about that. I thought that I had done what any good friend should and that nothing bad could happen anymore because I didn't deserve any of it. Many times she had started arguments with me, made up more rumors and lies about me which ended up costing me a lot. I lost friends and I felt like I was beginning to lose myself. The whole year, pretending that I was fine, that I was, in fact, strong enough and having to persuade people that nothing could bring me down. Living a lie was something I'd begun to be accustomed to. Having to fake being happy, that's hard. Some days it hurt to smile an ached to laugh and every lie that I was doing great made me feel sick to my stomach. Making up stories about how I loved this weekend and how it was still going to be awesome being at the same place or party as her. Who was I even trying to be? I kept getting hurt, over and over again because I held on so tightly to those beliefs I had. Two days ago, I overheard her mom telling my own friends things about me. I didn't hear her words exactly but another friend of mine who she talked to came to tell me about it. I burst out crying. I haven't cried in three years and I started again... at a party. Half an hour was spent in the dark, crying my heart out because I couldn't take the pressure of it anymore. I lost everything because I lost me: I didn't know where I was anymore and I don't even think my own friends did. Her mom was going around saying things about me. I believed in trust, I believed in Karma, I believed that parents were role models. If you can't trust friends and parents than who can you trust?

And I realized that nothing was over. It wasn't then and it wasn't now and you know what? I still don't think I know where I am and I'm pretty sure her and her mom are still having a great time working on their verbal propaganda. Things don't always happen for a reason, you can't always trust friends, parents and family and sometimes what goes around stays there and never comes around. But that's fine because that's just what life is: life isn't fair and it's never going to be. Having beliefs just to make me feel better about this unfairness and to help me come up with rational answers with why everything happens was basically me lying to me. Sometimes you have to know when to stop believing. I think that its only by stepping back and stopping to not believe for a while that you can truly find out what it is that you believe in. That you can start to find yourself in the midst of all of this mess we call life. And here, I am, crying again as I write this essay because somewhere, being honest hurts. And not believing hurts more. I believe in not believing in order to find yourself and really comprehend what it is that you hold as beliefs. I believe that pain is a part of life and that one should not shy way from this. Sometimes you need to get up and pretend and at times you just need to get up, face life stop trying to hide away from problems.