Posts Tagged ‘friendship’

This weekend sucked

Not all of it. We finally got the tax return (turns out it got delivered to a house around the corner with the same house number, and since both of our streets start with the same letter…*shrug* we get a lot of their stuff too). H sent me out shopping. And The Kid was off with her Grandma J (my MIL) for the weekend.

All of this, plus the great weather, should have added up to an awesome weekend. Not when you’re me it doesn’t.

Two of my closest friends were in a funk (and still are) all weekend. One friend, I’m trying to get her husband to remove his head from his ass so that he can finally see that she needs help. I’m getting close but he wanted to whine about how hard he’s having it. Well it’d be a damn sight easier if she wasn’t beating herself up, now wouldn’t it. sigh People can be so flippin short sighted.

Then there was MT. I know he doesn’t come up much but check the Cast of Characters page. MT is one of my best friends and closest confidants and I knew he wasn’t in a good place but I didn’t know how bad it was until I checked my email this morning and found a note from him talking about he’s been lying in his bed all day playing with his gun (he lives in the deep south out in the woods…he basically needs a gun). My heart sank. Partly because I’m something of the cause of MT’s bad mood. (long story, SO not going into it here).

I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like I’m not helping anyone anymore. People come to me for help and I show them the path for them to be able to help themselves but no one seems to want that. They want me to do the work for them and I can’t. I would if I could, but that’s not my path to travel. But no one seems to care about that. They all just want the easy way out. Hell I want the easy way out. But there is no easy way out. There is just life and all that comes with it, and God knows life ain’t easy.

I think I’m going to tune out for a while. Focus inward and start some of the healing that needs to go on in there anyway. My spiritual life is a mess and my personal life will be headed down that road if I’m not careful.


The Problem Of Finding Old Flames

Or: Why Facebook is making me rethink attending my class reunion next year.

I was happy when Facebook opened it’s doors for everyone to join. By time the site popped up I had already been out of college for about two years and they had deleted my email account, so there was no way for me to sign up and find old classmates (and I was really getting sick of that ripoff, bullshit site But as of late I’ve been going through great pains to avoid Facebook like the plague.

Part of the reason, aside from now having way too many annoying tweens in it’s population, is that an old high school crush has popped up. Initially I was happy to have found him. Aside from crushing on each other, we were also good friends and we hadn’t talked since graduation. No one knew what had happened to him, so naturally I was worried he had fallen victim to the city’s undertow. I greeted him with all the joy that one would an old friend they hadn’t seen in ages. He greeted me with cheap innuendo.

“We need to hook up so we can settle some unfinished business ;).”

That got an immediate WTF look. There was no way he could have looked at my profile and saw I was married with a kid. But he had. He even acknowledged that I had a kid. Oh, and did I mention that he’s married himself? Yeah. With two kids. Now add to that the fact that he is not cute in the least bit anymore. Ok, the fact that he’s married with kids takes obvious precedence over the fact that he’s not attractive anymore, but still. He was talking a lot of bullshit like he was Ralph Lauren’s newest undies model. I had to question if my Facebook page exuded that sort of desperation that I’d be willing to “hook up” with a married man that I hadn’t seen in nine years just because we crushed back when we were teenagers.

It doesn’t, in case you’re wondering.

He sent me a message the other day. “Hola @ me girl we need to hook up U have a beautiful daughter hola Yup!”

No. He’s not Latino. That’s not hola as in hi, that’s supposed to be “holla”. Yes, he really does type  like that. Damn near 30 and his Facebook and Myspace pages are full of writing just like that. It burns my eyes I tell you. BURNS! And yes, he has, again, acknowledged that I have a daughter. He left out the fact that I’m married.

I wrote back, dryly telling him that I really don’t use Facebook anymore.

wut up I just got ur reply oh ur not on facebook well wut about yspace did u have a chance to add me to ur friend list? Here r the links again just n case u forgot them (edited) U should be able to find me up under one of these. So Y arnt u on facebook that often any more? I would love to see u n person again one of these day’s u know lol. Where do u live now I may just have to “cum” and scoop u up or sum’n. Anyway Hola back when u get this u know where I’m @ =)

*gags and vomits* Do women really fall for this bullshit?  I mean women who aren’t mentally disabled. OK, there’s no way in hell I’d add him to my myspace friends. Why? Because H is on there for one, and two he seems to not care that I am married (he seems not to care that he’s married) so God only knows what bullshit he’d put on my comments for all the world to see. And can we talk about him using “cum” as opposed to “come” like it’s actually clever? Men, take note, that shit is corny. It’s corny and it REEKS of desperation. Does he really think that in nine years I have not moved on from the crush I had on him and that I’d actually be willing  to put my marriage at risk for one night of, most likely, very disappointing sex?

I tell him that I moved from Detroit when I got married back in 2002 (I made a point of stating what year I got married). His reply ignored the fact that I even mentioned being married (hell even former lovers I’ve bumped into on facebook have congratulated me on being married…even if they didn’t mean it, they said it) and repeated his desire for us to meet up for some stupid tryst.

Thing is, I really don’t know how to tell him that a single snowflake has a better chance in Hell than he does trying to get me into bed, without saying that a single snowflake has a better chance in Hell than he does trying to get me into bed. The wrong response will put him on the defensive and he’ll start claiming that he was joking (riiiiiight that’s why he keeps bringing it up *rolls eyes*) and that he wouldn’t put his marriage at risk for me.

I’m not saying I’m hot shit. I’m not. But I’m not so damn ugly (actually I’m not ugly at all thank you) or so desperate (I’m not desperate either) that I’d be willing to just fall for that lameness. He’s bumping up against 30. He’s married with two kids. And yet he has no clue how to approach a grown woman. This is why people need to stop going to clubs to meet people. It’s hard to detect bullshit over those blaring speakers, and so it makes the bullshitter think that what they’re saying is actually clever and cute.

Ah well…*continues to avoid Facebook*

Protected: Teaching this old dog a new trick…and some other stuff too

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Alls well that ends well….I guess….well…not really

If you’re curious as to what happened to me and my friend (MT) since I last wrote about us parting ways so he could pursue another avenue…we’re still good friends. And the avenue turned into a dead end. I won’t get into the whole mess because I’m just drained over the whole situation and I don’t have the energy to rehash it all over again. Essentially, someone one led him to believe one thing, then turned around and did another. Sucks doesn’t it.

But MT and I are still friends, a bit bruised in our friendship but no worse for the wear.

…And then BAM! it hits you

This evening wasn’t a very good one for me. I had something of an episode.

H asked me what was wrong with a little too much attitude in his voice. So I left the kitchen (where I had been sitting) and went upstairs to my room. I started crying. Not bawling, just crying. The Kid knew something was up and started to come up after me (she’s pretty intuitive for a four year old), but H stopped her and made her go back into the living room. That I was happy for. Fact is I don’t like her seeing me upset. I’ve only recently gotten on anti-deps, so for three years she’s seen me at my worst. I don’t want her seeing me like that, or even near that, again.

All the things “wrong” came pouring from me while I sat there. I grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled them down, sobbing the whole time but feeling better with each line that I wrote. A little over two pages later I went back down stairs and dropped the notebook on the kitchen table for H to read (that is if he actually could read it…my handwriting got a little bad as everything flowed from me). Then I went back upstairs to the bathroom and ran a shower. After standing under the water for a few minutes I flipped up the lever to close the tub drain, sat down and let the shower head fill the tub and the water pound down on my back and neck.

Once I started losing hot water I turned the shower off and laid back, sinking slowly into the water until my nearly my entire head was submerged, leaving only my nose and mouth above the water. I allowed my body to just relax and float (insomuch as one can in your average bathtub). In that suspended state my mind cleared. I could hear noise through the water, but I focused on the sound of my heartbeat and breathing.

That’s as close as I ever get to a truly deep, meditative state. In my tub, mostly submerged, listening to the blood pulse in my ears and my breathing. And it was here that I discovered what the true source of my episode was. A mass of conflicting emotions over a situation with a friend. The answer came right after: I had to be honest with him and make the hard choice neither of us really wanted to make.

After running what I was going to say through my head a few times, using my breathing as a sort of metronome to keep the thoughts from racing too fast for me to put together properly, I emerged from the water (once near scalding hot, now luke warm), ran some conditioner through my hair (soaking as long as I did underwater will turn my curly hair into a natted mess) and got out, confident in what I had to do.

And I did it. And I bawled for about an hour and a half afterwards. I hurt someone I loved dearly, but did it so they’d have the freedom they needed to do what will, hopefully, end with them being happy. It hurt like fuck on my end, and I’m sure it wasn’t very pleasant on theirs either. I cried a few more times after that too. One friend assured me it was the right thing to do. A mutual friend of ours echoed the sentiment. I know it’s right. But right still feels like having a limb torn from you.

But that’s the way these things work. You struggle for the right answer, the one that makes everyone happy. And sometimes there is no answer that makes everyone happy. Sometimes you have to just hurt someone, and yourself, in the process of making them happy.

Ah hell…I won’t end on that load of pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Fact is I tore out his heart and mine all in one swift move and I did it because I loved him enough to want him to be happy in his life and that wasn’t going to happen so long as I was still holding on to him. That was the answer I came up with to my problem. It was a fucked up answer, but if I had kept on the way I was it would have been detrimental to my emotional health, and I know he wouldn’t have wanted that.  I still consider him one of my closest friends and confidants. He knows me inside and out. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me, or even talk to me, but I’ll have to live with it anyway.