Letter to a Friend
You were my friend. I think. I'm not sure anymore. Friends don't disappear. They talk openly with one another. They work through things together and they accept each other as is, the good, the bad, the strange and all the in-betweens. Friends don't judge. Friends make each other laugh and smile just because they can and because it feels good. Friends are unconditional. But I guess you had conditions.
Whatever feelings you had or didn't have are yours to deal with. As are mine. What hurts is losing your friendship, nothing more. How nice it must be for you to live in such a lofty place where friends are disposable. Because that's what your actions say. How nice that you get to decide for both of us. We are supposed to be grown-ups, but we have both behaved like children. I am not proud — of either of us.
I pushed you because you ran away and because silence cannot be defended. I pushed you because I liked you and because I cared. I pushed you because I wanted to understand. I pushed you because I was your friend. I know. I ran away too. But that was a decade ago. So maybe this is payback. Is it? Never mind. Maybe that's just our legacy. We run away from each other. Only we're not children anymore, so I feel like we should have been able to do better this time around. But I guess we both have some more growing up to do.
At one time I told you I wanted your truth. Maybe that wasn't fair. After all, you haven't heard mine. I have spent the last few years fighting for my life. Surgeries and chemo and more surgeries. When I asked you to read Atlas with me, I was in the hospital. My intensity, my impatience, my general insanity is fueled by a need to do things now, to do them well, to fix what's broken, to make it all better. Enough. You don't need my psychological garbage. Today I am well. But tomorrow? Well, who the hell knows. I suppose that is a universal truth.But Ineed to live every day knowing that I've said everything I needed to say. I cannot stay silent.
Anyway, I'm not mad and I'm not bitter. I do not regret the time we spent together or the things I shared with you. I am not indifferent nor will I ever be. Because at one time, I do believe you were my friend. I think. Be good, stay well. I am done trying. As much as it hurts, I have nothing left to give to someone who just isn't interested. Enjoy the silence.
Letter to a Friend