Me, Myself

In this world of mine with mysteries and histories, i find myself strangely alone. With old ties broken, a to- avoid list, troubled allies and forgotten memories I begin my week.
At times you wonder is there anyone who would work so hard for you. Hardly anyone. You can make a list of friends whom you can party with, a list of friends who will call you their best friend, a list of friends who would wish you on your birthday asking for treats and a list of friends who would list your name among those they would call in emergency. These lists are frankly easy to make. But as I sit to make a list of friends, family and relatives who would be there for you even if the sky falls on your head, I find myself staring at a blank sheet. I ask myself how can that be so?
I wonder maybe I am being too rude or I can’t recognise the care of those around me. There may be those who after reading this may go, how can she say that we are they for her. And there have been many times when my friends have been my guardian angels; I call them my God- sent friends.
In life since I could think of I have come to do many things independently, from buying my own clothes to travelling places. For me my independence matters a lot. I don’t hesitate to do anything alone I go ahead. But then I look back and I hope at times only if I could have help carrying my heavy luggage or I could share my headaches or grumble with someone.
Independence comes at its own cost. It is a package of self dominance and loneliness. You take the good and throw the rest but at times another independent hand is always welcome.