Guess I didn't learn my lesson from high school. Being the middle man always has its repercussions. Somebody forgot to warn me that even when you try not to take sides, there's the risk you'll lose a friend.
Somebody also forgot to remind me how hard I find letting go of people I'm trying to get close to, to get to like me. Just like in break ups, losing all the fledgling friendships that were blooming. It's just never going to work now, because those friends were never mine to begin with. And once again, people can't help but take sides in such a situation. And you can't help but feel crushed that they won't take yours.
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Something about A House Is Not A Home in Glee this week reminds me of old American glamour, soulful and heartfelt. I love that kind of music, although I hardly know any. It reminds me of when I was young, when my sisters and I would sleep on the mattress on the floor of our parents' room while oldies would play on the radio.
How I felt my heart would break, even when there was no reason for it. How I used to cry thinking of my mom or dad overseas at the time, and missing them so much. It takes me to another place, like there's a magical other life I could be living with this soundtrack playing in the background.
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