I was lying here in bed, sick as a dog and unable to sleep, and I started thinking, as one does at such times. My thoughts, like usual, drifted to my friends and how much I care about each one, and I realized something. There's a friend who, in the numerous "friend" slots inside my head, still holds a high and affectionate place, despite the fact that we haven't spoken hardly at all in the last few months, and I realized I'm holding a lot of anger about this person, even though underneath it there's still a kernel of love and longing for companionship.
I suppose the anger stems from a period where this person was away a lot, and during our brief conversations, which I grasped for like a drowning man, I learned they weren't entirely who I thought them to be. I realized that as close as I held them, I had no idea what they thought of me, and I still don't. See, I think of and treat my online friends like real people that I could touch and feel, and part of me expects them to do the same, to feel the same love and compassion for me as I do for them.
This is of course preposterous. You can't make or expect someone to feel a certain way, no matter how much you do, but even though I realize that, it never seems to sink into my thoughts in practice. I wonder what that once dearest friend is doing now... thinking now, feeling now. I wonder what their life is like without me in it. I wonder if they think about me like I think about them, or ever did...

This is what being sick does to me. =~=