You might remember a long time ago when I talked about my friend Jack. Well, Jack is, evidently, no longer my friend. And I don't know what to think about that. I really really don't.
About a month ago, I got an email. And this is a little overshare-y, but I'm just going to paste the whole email in here, because that's the only thing I can think to do:
I really want to see you. I was originally going to say that I need to see you, but obviously that's not true. I keep waiting for a time when I don't actually find myself wanting to call you when I'm in C'ville, but so far that time has not come. It's just... I dunno. It's not like I have anything in particular to say. In fact, I guess I don't have anything to say at all. I just can't be here and not feel like I'm missing something not seeing you. That was too many negatives.
I think how this is probably going to go is that I'll keep sending these sorts of emails when I get a bit drunk - because otherwise (for the most part) I'm in control enough to remember what dignity is - for however long it takes me to stop feeling the need to send these emails. And you can ignore them until then. It's just hard to stop myself right now. When I'm back here, it all comes back, and while a lot of "it" is stupid mad stuff, some of it is the other part and it's all still here.
And I read it, and I got this sort of sinking feeling, and I just did not know what I could say in response that wouldn't be leaping down her throat. So I sat on it for a few days. I started emails and deleted them. And eventually I came up with something to say:
I've been thinking about this for a few days, although I guess that's obvious. And the nicest thing I can come up with is that I need you to not do this. If you want to get together and do something, give me a call or Facebook or whatever and we can do that. We don't have as much in common as we used to, but I'd wager we can still have a good time doing something.
But this? This is bullshit. You don't get to drag me back into those memories just because you're drunk and in Charlottesville. You don't get to send me emails implying that when you think of me, you mostly remember "stupid mad stuff." Am I supposed to be gratified that "some" of what you think about me is "the other part"?
I can't just ignore these, because they're not harmless. You send me this kind of crap every few months, and every few months, I have do deal with the consequences. You should see what I posted in my school blog after you emailed me in November; I was depressed for a week, right as final-project-season started. Because as much as you have a hero complex, I fix things. I smooth things over. That's what I do. But I can't smooth over the past, and you don't have the right to make me try.
Write your emails if it makes you feel better. If you're drunk and upset, whatever, you'll probably send them. But don't pretend like this is harmless catharsis for you, because I can't afford to have "it" all come back to me, too.
When I read through it again, obviously I did not succeed at not leaping down her throat. But I don't think I was unreasonable, and I still think it needed to be said. She sent me back a little apology and "that's not what I meant, but sorry about that," and then evidently she unadded me on Facebook and my other blog, and while that's obviously not a huge deal, it signals a change, and I hate change. I've mentioned that.
Anyway. I don't know what I even want to say about any of this. But Jack has always been there. And I don't like knowing that she's not anymore. I don't like that at all. She knew me better than anyone, once. Is it so crazy for that to mean something to me? Even if we barely know each other at all anymore? I don't know. I guess I understand why she did it, but I wish she hadn't.
I feel like I am alone, now. That's stupid, and it's melodramatic, and objectively it is false. But I will probably never be open with another person the way I was with her. I mean, you're not supposed to, not like that. Our relationship was never healthy. But it still hurts.
She didn't say goodbye.
And it took me a month to notice.
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