Hurting.

Warning: the following post is depressing, angsty, and a bit long, and if you bother to read it, you'll probably think it's directed at you.

I recently reconnected with a childhood friend, Becky. Becky, Sara, and I were inseparable when we were little. I was always closer to Sara, though, and when my friendship with Becky came to a screeching halt, it hurt, but it wasn't completely devastating to me. I still am confident that the decisions I made that led to that were the right ones, even though she hated me for them.
We've both done a lot of growing up in the almost-decade that has passed since then, and I think we'll eventually be friends again. I hope so.
Reconnecting with her, though, has put Sara on my mind even more lately. In the last four years, I haven't gone a single day without thinking of her & missing her. I can't bear the thought that of those two childhood friendships, the one that meant so much more to me is the one that it seems may never come back. I dreamed about Sara on Wednesday night, all night. The dream covered a timespan of at least a year, and it started with a normal day as I'm living them now: I got up early, went to work, came back to my apartment, cooked pasta for dinner. About half-way through eating, my phone rang. It was a Fort Worth number, but I didn't recognize it, and so was delighted and completely shocked to hear Sara's voice on the other end. She told me that she wanted to get cleaned up and that she knew that she wouldn't be able to unless she got out of Fort Worth & away from the temptations it held for her. She asked to come stay with me. I agreed, of course, and she came. I did all I could to help her detox. I went with her to a hospital so that a doctor could monitor her unborn baby while she went through such an ordeal. I did everything that I would really do...I wasn't a superhero with all the know-how about this stuff. I was myself, and I did exactly what I'd do if she really did call me and ask me to be there for her in that way. By the end of the dream, she was healthy again, had a healthy baby girl in her arms, and we were friends again. I didn't want to wake up.
I've been in a funk ever since that dream. She's been on my mind even more, and in a more depressing way, and I feel like it is taking a toll on the way that I see all of my other friendships. I've been looking back over the course of my life and seeing all the super-close relationships I've had, and realizing how so many have managed to hurt me to my very core.
I talked to Josh yesterday. Wonderful, sweet, amazing Josh. He's the only one who has recognized how low I've been in the last week. The only one. I told him that I was tired of forming these friendships that, to me, at least, are so very deep...they always seem to hurt me beyond repair. I've always been friends with a lot of people, but had a tight core group of just two or three that have known everything about me and that I've cared about more than I've ever been able to express to any of them...and these are the ones that shove the jagged daggers into my soul. I'm tired. I've become cynical and suspicious. Pain (both emotional and physical) has become the norm for me. I've started realizing that the friends that mean so very much to me usually don't think so highly of me. They've never said it, but I can feel it. I'm a lot more intuitive than most people realize.
I can totally understand now why some people build walls around their hearts so high that no one ever sees what's within. If no one can get to the innermost places, then no one can hurt them that deeply. People can only hurt you as deeply as you let them in. I like working with clay; maybe I should start making some bricks.
I've never liked to be alone. But I wonder if it wouldn't be better than risking more heartbreak.