To be your friend was always easy. Always easy till it wasn’t.
I saw you the other day. We passed each other at a turn not far from either of our houses. I was stopped and you made the right turn, passing by me on my left. You looked right at me.
Then I saw your eyes scan my daughter, who was next to me.
I also saw you at our local super store. I saw you by the books, you looked the same. My heart hurt. I turned my cart and went the opposite direction.
I wondered if you would show at the local fest. You know which one, and I did find myself looking for you. I wondered how it would go.
I do miss you. I think of you often and am often overwhelmed by the wave of sadness that washes over me.
It’s hard for me to make friends. It’s easy to strike up a conversation with anyone, but it’s not easy to make friends.
It’s mainly trust. For me to even accept a friend and be even a tiny bit vulnerable with someone is huge. I never put that on you, it’s more something that is internal with me. In the 14 years I called you the best friend I ever had on this planet, it was because I trusted you.
To this day I have to stop myself from calling you or texting you or tagging you in something that only you would understand. I told you often that you were the only one in my life I let my walls down with and I could be myself. You often told me the same. You seemed to accept me as I accepted you.
You never tried to change me and I never tried to change you. We were very different people but we were who we were with each other and I swear to you, in all my relationships from my husband to my family to other friends, you were the best and the perfect fit to my crazy self.
14 years, a thousand miles of hikes and bikes and walks. Gyms joined and fighting with neighbors that build walls. Talking for hours and hours. Weddings, graduations, parties, our children, their children, our pasts, canons and fireworks, green bonfires and drunk gummy bears. Wandering in the woods, ghosts, chickens and funny plants. Stolen ferns and haunted coffee, boats and lakes, random dinosaur eggs on a poison ivy covered island. Illegal swimming in clear water and snakes that have eyes. Buzzards and tiny deer and kids that have old souls. Wondering if she’s dead in the bathroom and enjoying steam rooms & hot tubs.
You were my friend.
You are missed and there are days I forget the end. The end that I still don’t understand. The end that I’m positive contains three sides. Yours, mine and the truth in the middle.
For me it was the first time you were mad at me for something and instead of talking to me, you pulled the silent treatment and shut me out. It was after a weight class, I noticed you icing me out and after class I smiled at you and said “hey!” You made eye contact with me and looked at the instructor near me and said. “Great class! I have to run tho, can’t stay and talk, I’m meeting a good friend for lunch! Byeee.”
And walked out.
I tried, but I couldn’t come back from that one. I tried. I had seen you do exactly that to others, but I was on the side of listening to you as you put them through it. So I knew you.
I knew you.
But I tried. I knew I had fucked up royally in your eyes, but you never told me what I did.
That same summer, as we tried to put the friendship back, you were looking for advice on remolding a room. The most expensive room a homeowner can remodel, and you were looking for advice.
But this is what he does. 30 years, this is what he does. He’s got all the connections for this room, he knows where ripoffs come in.
It actually took me a while to figure out that maybe you thought I wanted him to be the one to do it for you. It took a while because it was never in my mind at all that he would do this job for your family.
It was only in my mind that you not get ripped off and what you should be asking your builder to do because this particular room being done is not easy on a family and you should never be inconvenienced during the makeover. I know that part because I’m the wife of a guy that’s been doing it for 30+ years.
He even tried get you in touch with his suppliers. Again, not because he wanted the job either, he absolutely did not, but because you were my friend and you should not be ripped off.
But that day at the pool when I mentioned one thing you should ask your builder before he starts, you sat up, snapped your fingers in my face and said, “I give my builder keys, that’s how much I trust them.”
I said, “ok.” And I remember getting up and walking over to the pool. I had no idea what keys had to do with it and mine is always given keys too. It was weird.
One more time, after a class, you were bitching about costs. I mentioned again something I knew, this time you put your hand in my face to stop me speaking and said, “I know what I’m doing.”
So I never spoke about it with you again. Weirdly, it was that day on my way home that it crosses my mind that maybe you thought I wanted my husband to be doing your job. It was so far out there for me that I would never ever even be thinking he should.
You then posted on Facebook the progress of that job. I guess because I couldn’t stop thinking about that hand in my face, I never liked a single one. Immature of me, I know, but you really were incredibly rude.
I just didn’t want to hit that like button. You were getting nastier with me more and more and I started to realize maybe we were not the friends I thought we were.
I noticed anything I liked, or liked doing, you would put down. I noticed you talked about people on Facebook a lot. You would use the word “jealous” a lot. You would say seeing pictures of people traveling or doing things made you jealous.
You would tell me that the people looking at pictures of your life and your grandkids were jealous of you.
It was weird to me because I don’t ever feel that way. Ever. It doesn’t dawn on me to look at someone’s life and feel jealousy. I don’t post in hopes of making others feel that way.
But I just stayed quiet and let you feel however you wanted to feel.
So your job gets finished and I guess because my first comment on your Facebook about it wasn’t up to par for you, you decided to send me the most insane texts ever.
What you didn’t know was that I was nowhere near my phone that day. It was in another room charging and I honestly forgot about it. I was on another floor in a different room with my iPad. My iPad will receive iMessages, but not messages from an android.
I truly did not get your messages until later that evening.
It’s like madness overtook you the longer I didn’t answer.
I immediately answered you the moment I saw them. I told you everything was fine, I loved you, I loved your family, everything fine.
But that was the doormat in me talking. Everything wasn’t fine.
You then made your whole family block me and you blocked me out too.
Now I’m done. This is a friendship, I’m already exhausted over the state of my marriage, I’m done.
Then your husband passed. Damn. I truly loved him. He was hilarious and fun and always had a bright blue eyed smile for everyone. He was such a good human.
But I didn’t know. You made everyone block me! I had NO IDEA.
But you bitched to a mutual friend that I wasn’t there for you. But I’m not sure how I could’ve been since you made everyone who knew block me.
That’s your MO too. Every time you fight with someone, you make your family block them. Your brother then goes on to torture them. It sucks that you do that. No, I’m not jealous, lol… I think it’s gross.
Then last Christmas, our families passed each other. I saw you. I was really sad for you and your family. The first season without him had to be hard on all of you and my heart broke when I saw you. You passed and kept going. I turned to look back at you, I was trying to figure out how to say hi, and I saw you whisper in your sons girlfriends ear and then you turned back to us, pointed at us, your head went back and you laughed this fake, loud, obnoxious laugh.
I turned and walked on.
You were my only real life friend I told about this blog. I don’t know if you’ll read it, I guess I don’t really care either way.
Or do I?
I will never know what caused that initial act of nastiness that first time after the weight class. But what I do know is that for me, it was hard to come back from. I tried.
I guess I needed to acknowledge this friendship and it’s end. For me, there was pain and heartache with its ending. Confusion. Anger.
I don’t think you should have to fight so hard for friendship, or love, or value.
I never felt like you owed me anything, I gave freely.
But I think you felt I owed you, and I don’t know what to do with that.
I saw you the other day when we passed each other at the stop sign. I was surprised at how sad I felt.
It’s like I have to pull up the end, the bad parts, so I can breathe again. So I can hold my head up and keep going forward. I have to pull up the bad so the sad isn’t so big.
I have to say that again… it’s interesting… I have to pull up the bad so the sad isn’t so big.
I wish it ended differently.
I did this blog this way, to write it out and if you read it? Then that means you looked for it. I won’t send it to you, that would be like knocking on your door uninvited. I won’t do that.
You were a good friend and I truly wish nothing but the best for you.
But don’t laugh at me in the Christmas tree park this year. Not cool.