It was a Facebook post of the protest she attended today that reminded me of my friend's absence. She was the one local friend I had when this all started early last summer. And yet she has been mostly missing in action since then. When I needed someone most, she didn't have time. When I asked her to check in on me regularly even with just a quick text, weeks and months would go by in silence.
On several occasions, she cancelled the plans we made. Even though she lives a 15 minute drive from me and works a half mile from me, we have only seen each other 4 or 5 times in the last year and a half. There have been no phone calls in between, texts have been very infrequent, short, and superficial, nor does she interact with most of my Facebook posts.
I quickly learned last year that I couldn't depend on her. I suppose I've been grieving the loss of the close friendship I thought I had with her at the same time I've been grieving the loss of the illusion that my marriage was. As I type that out, I realize how significant that is. I lost close relationships with the only two people who knew me well in this entire state at the same time.
The beauty of this blog is that when I type things out that really hit home, I can just pause and sit with it a moment. The evening breeze is flowing in from outside, embracing me in this pain. The music playing at the brewery across the street seems so distant. Tears threaten but won't fall.
I am sad. I am disappointed. I'm frustrated with the internal battle inside of me that for the last year has tried to weigh how much I enjoy the moments I do get with this friend with the pain of her silence. I've distanced myself a fair bit since I realized that I couldn't trust her to be there, although not cut off contact. I've eliminated my expectations of her and turned to building a new community of people who are mostly showing up consistently. That's helped temper my disappointment some but it hasn't eliminated the pain and the grief.
I played a role in it. I didn't ask much of her. This whole year has been a steep learning curve as I gain confidence in asking for any help. So last summer and even fall, I struggled to speak up. I didn't even know what to say. I didn't yet know what I needed from people and what I could reasonably ask of them. I remember her telling me last year that she knows that if the roles were reversed I would be there holding her as she cried and that she would be blowing up my phone. I definitely never blew up her phone and I'm not sure she ever even saw me cry. That conversation was so early on, I didn't know how to use it to speak up about what would be most helpful to me.
But still I did occasionally ask for very specific things of her that she didn't follow through on. And the cancellations of plans hit hard. What hurt the most though was that she never seemed concerned with whether I was okay. She knew if the roles were reversed she would fall apart but didn't bother to check in and see if I was falling apart.
I'm so grateful for the community I have built thus far and for the people who have shown up for me. Maybe this loss pushed me to invest in something larger. But I'm still really sad that one of the people who knew me the best couldn't be bothered to show up for me at a time when I was losing the one other non-family person who knew me the best.
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