Something That Happened.

Looks like my friend Yolar the (writing) Barbarian posted a story online a few months ago. It'd be splendiferous if you posted more of your stories more often, Yolar...

I wonder what kind of fantasy she had built about me in the world of her mind? Was I a swaggering Jim Morrison-type, swilling a bottle of whiskey while composing brilliant poetry on Dionysian themes, lamenting for my cock and dead Indians? Then, meeting me in person, and finding out I was simply a casual, Average Joe-looking dude, who spends a great deal of time in the geek world of a digital landscape--was it the realization that I had not matched her Imaginary Harold, a mythical being of extraordinary talents and possessing a rockstar's persona--that compelled her to close the curtain? (By the way, I do have extraordinary talents--but that's another story.)

I suppose she was overwhelmed--I have a way of doing that, I suppose. But I'm not blaming myself, not entirely--she was an equal participant in this venture. Unless, of course, I somehow subconsciously propelled the relationship to its conclusion, knowing that it's best for me to be alone at this point in my life and for her to move on to healthier emotional horizons. But I don't believe I did that--that would be awfully sensible and altruistic of me, and although I've matured considerably over the years, I'm still governed by the unreasonable and selfish tyranny of emotion. To feel that I brought this upon us is simply my ego wanting to believe I had more influence on this outcome. I don't like feeling out of control--I'm willing to relinquish some control, to compromise in a relationship--but I don't sit comfortably with being shut out without what I perceive to be an adequate explanation. How can something like this happen so fast? What happened? Was this her plan from the beginning? These are ridulously impossible questions to answer and perhaps it is immature to even consider them. It's certainly a waste of time. So the consolation prize I award myself: perhaps I deserved this. Now how ridiculous is it for me to feel that way?

The fact is, I know that consciously I really wanted to have her in my life, in one way or another. I suppose I entertained the fantasy of being more than friends, but you can't blame a guy for responding to what he perceives to be invitations in that direction. Perception. Everyone has their own--their own interpretations of events, their own distorted views of reality. Apparently, mine had led me to believe that renewal was possible--that a once-failed relationship could return with a vengeance, asserting its will, or perhaps destiny, to exist--that a woman could forgive what happened as a girl and rebuild a broken relationship--how could I have deluded myself so?

Oh, that's right--I was out of my mind. Out of my mind with concerns--concerns about my mother's livelihood, concerns regarding protecting a close friend, concerns about my own mental health during what I perceive to be the most difficult period of my life. So how could I find the time, or the will, to take a step back and really question whether or not this relationship could realistically flourish? Did I really want to be lovers, or was I trying to fill a gap of pain and sorrow with an old memory, one which has haunted me for years and which I never entirely recovered from? And if that is the case, can I move on now, knowing that I'll never see her again? Only time will tell, but let me start by asserting that I must. And yet, the sorrow will live with me forever, in some inner recess of my being, and perhaps it will make me a better man, somehow. One thing I do know is that I am grateful--grateful that I was able to cross paths with my old friend again. I do not really believe her intentions were impure, however disturbing the outcome--loneliness drives people to do some funny things, if not always so nice. To her I say, I forgive you, and will never harbor a resentment for having renewed our acquaintance. My heart will always be open to you--but I will never allow myself to be hurt like this again. I don't like you right now, you're not my friend. You're a mean person who has hurt me, and who has admitted that you may have used me. Perhaps I deserved it for my trespasses of the past, and if I've helped you purge yourself and overcome your past, then I'm happy to have participated. But if this was all for naught, then I am saddened, and truly disappointed. If this was your goal, then congratulations. I know this sounds immature of me, but what's a blog for but to ruminate on your anxieties? This is my way of purging.

But naught's for naught--every experience helps us learn, and grow, and improve. I suspected from the beginning that this relationship could take an unhappy turn, and I'm happy to report that although I would have liked for us to have corresponded longer, things worked out brilliantly. Sure I'm sad--I'm miserable right now--but I know I'll be okay. I'm fairly healthy, though I've got a few issues to work out--so I'll be alright. I may even be depressed for awhile, but I'll do my best not to be. I only hope you will find the path to overcoming your loneliness--I know how difficult that can be, since I haven't entirely overcome that obstacle yet, either. But you say that you're happy and that you've found your peace, and if so, I'm glad, and don't hesitate to contact me someday--I may not be willing to jump right into the type of dialogue we've been having, but I'll certainly be there for you, because I don't really believe you're a mean person--I knew you to be a loving person, so perhaps you're just lashing out, "purifying" yourself. If you ever contact me again in the future, I simply won't be so anxious about pursuing any fantasies. I'll be your friend, and I'll console you, and you'll inspire me, maybe.

A friend I love dearly ended our relationship this week. Via email. No phonecall, no hug, not even a last handshake--a lousy email.