I wrote a long while back a blog to my friend and told me not to contact him, so, since our relationship was pretty strong, I respected his need for space.
Until I received a text at 2 am from him saying to check my facebook. I got up during the sunlight hours, read the message and immediately did as instructed. It had been months since we had talked last.
He sent me a document titled: “Hey”. In the same chat box, I could see the last message he had sent me. Something about not wanting to ever talk to me again.
“Truthfully, you’re reading this because you were not expecting in the slightest a message from me. Maybe you were, I don’t know how your mind reading skills have developed, but for all intents and purposes, this is completely random. “
Then he wrote so many “I’m sorry for..” and “I know you know..” I can’t quite summarize it very well.
“Finally, I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. My mind works as well as a political organization, and is therefore subject to make completely idiotic decisions. There is so much more stuff I’d like to apologize for, but either can’t think of, or they are too relevant to list here. I’ve made bad decisions throughout the two years I’ve known you, and honestly, it feels like twenty. I’ve aged so much mentally, and gained wisdom I never would have gotten otherwise. But at what cost? In my attempt to gain the answers to everything, I lost you, friends, and people close to me. I realize now which is more important, but hindsight is always 20/20.”
While I was reading this I cried. He was really right about most of the stuff he said about things between us. We were best friends, and we fought for each other. Both of us while we knew each other were surrounded by people that tore us down and tried to tear our relationship apart. I am proud to say those people were never the reason for our relationship coming to a close, at least not on my end… I think they may have affected him in a way I didn’t understand at the time.
A year later, he and I had still been talking off and on, but never as fervently as we had that summer.
Around the same time of year, his father had taken the plunge. I knew this was almost the last straw for him, he had always said he hated his dad, for everything, but I knew no one could hate their dad… not enough to be happy when he was dead.
I called and left a voicemail. But I didn’t think it was enough. He called me back a day later, and we talked… I tried to make him laugh, but I think it was fake and forced.
It’s been almost a year since then, and he hasn’t been well at all, and he refused to talk to me after that.
After receiving the letter in September, we Skyped.
A bit of my letter in response to him:
“I look at your name on my favorite pair of pants and its all crossed out and written over.
But its still there.
Sharpie is permanent marker and I always write in it.”
…..But you know me.