July 19, 2011|
I hate how painful these past forty eight hours have been. My honeymoon period with my friend came to a somewhat rapid stop. I guess I don't give people many chances. She was in a bad mood, and I kind of allowed that to make me more timid, and in doing so, I guess I began the process of keeping her at arm's length because I felt unsafe. How easy it is for me to feel too vulnerable, to feel like I am unable to be close to a person. In fact, most of my relationships seem to follow this pattern, though most I don't give nearly as much of a fuck about as the one with her because it felt intense and real for a time, and nothing else has felt intense and real for a long long time. And now another reality is here.
I avoid hitting on people, avoid being outwardly open, to avoid the sting of rejection, and yet it seems to find me in ways that hurt so much. It jarred me when some asshole began to sing No Sleep till Brooklyn at the bar and my friend told me that she took it as a sign to drive back to New York, and it annoyed me when she talked about it, and it hurt when I realized she was another person leaving me.
I knew she might leave at the end of Summer, which would make me sad, but this feels like I've just been left behind. And then she kept talking about how hurt she was, how she couldn't let herself get close to anyone because her bandmate hurt her and how she had to leave because of that.
I would never expect someone to cancel their plans on account of me, but some consideration of what this was for me would have been appreciated, but it's like she didn't even realize, after all the things I had said, after I told her I appreciated her being here and that I don't tell people things like that, that this was a painful experience. It was about the pain inflicted upon her by a friend, but I don't think she realized that her actions were in turn hurting another friend.
When I mentioned that we should find a windshield wiper for her car, she tied that into her trip again, and I realized I was acting as an accomplice to the end of this experience.
She talked about how she couldn't stay here, how if she did she would do nothing, and hit this wall, and be depressed. And I just thought of how all the things she said, all the reasons she was leaving, were the reasons why her being here was so important for me.
I didn't want to say anything. I thought of it. I didn't want her justifications. I didn't want to guilt trip her. I just wanted it to not be happening, but since it was happening I wish she had considered my suffering, the suffering I have struggled with most of my life, and said something, like that she would stay in touch with me, or that she was sorry to go, or that she'd miss me, but it wasn't about me to the point that I was nothing but a pin-sized hole in the sky, indistinguishable from any other tiny burning object.
Some apology for her bad mood tonight, but no apology for leaving me in the world that I feel incapable of escaping. Maybe it is inevitable that I stay here and bleed out all of my passions into a shower drain every day that I wake up. I would never expect someone to stay for me, especially if being here causes them to experience what I experience. Just some acknowledgement, some acknowledgement that yes, they are leaving, and yes I am suffering and will continue to suffer, and yes they are my friend and they realize they are leaving a friend.
And I was left with a short hug and goodbye.