Cracked

I have never been an elegant dumper. I never quite know what to say, so in the past I’ve always said nothing. Not only is that inelegant, it’s immature and cowardly. I can see that for what it is, but how do you break up with someone when he or she is not a significant other? A hairstylist, lunch companion at work? A friend? That’s the one that sticks me in the heart – the friend. There’s a specific situation in which I was deeply connected to a particular friend. We could read each other’s thoughts, finish each other’s sentences. We had fun, but we shared a closeness of heart that is so rarely found in another person. There was a falling out – I don’t even remember the circumstances – and we didn’t talk. And then we did, but through an opaque shroud. It was surface conversation, if even that.

I grew up having learned that relationships are over when there’s an argument. In my world, you didn’t get angry with someone. Or, at least, if you did you certainly didn’t do something crazy like communicate and share actual thoughts with the other person. You held it in, or you told anyone who’s not the right person. You were passive aggressive, making the other person guess because if they’re in the wrong, THEY SHOULD KNOW. And then things fade, and then you’re done. Hence my aversion to conflict. It took me several long-term boyfriends to realize that an argument is a natural occurrence between people who care for each other. I haven’t been good at conflict with friends. In my past I’d run or just stop calling if someone was angry with me. I couldn’t face the fact that I – someone who hates hurting other people more than anything – was at fault. So I ignored it, thought that it was meant to be, maybe. I thought whatever helped me sleep at night. Arguments with friends were the end of everything. Arguments, for me, were a loud, sad conclusion, no matter who the other party.

I still dread arguments. I still hold things in. And when cornered, or if I can’t handle it anymore, I ooze vitriol, seethe hate. My anger presents itself in scorn and derision. I hate that part of me, so I communicate now, whatever the cost. It still rears its ugly head once in a great while, but I try so hard. I try to kick my pride in the face, because pride is what sends me running with my hands over my ears whenever there is a hint of conflict. I try to tell people how I feel about them whenever I can – certainly with my family, with whom I lost so much time. But the aforementioned friendship, it’s not the same, no matter how much I try. I’ve been genuine in my apologies, because certainly I had a lapse in conversational judgment, and things are supposedly okay. Supposedly. Only it strikes me every so often like a kick in the gut that I have no idea who she is anymore. This girl whose mind I could read quite eerily is a stranger to me. No, not a stranger, that’s not accurate. She is the ache in my heart and represents my loneliness when I think of what we had as friends. But I know nothing about her anymore. And that hurts. We’ve mentioned how much we miss us, but there has been nothing further. Our friendship stopped in mid-sentence, and all there is now is silence. No movement.

I have to accept this, and to a point I have. Friendships – any relationship, rather – are beautiful and should be cherished. It seems that we cannot resurrect Us for whatever reason. I’ve left the door open should she decide to come back and go forward, but I can’t force things. Nobody can.

And so it rests.

I don’t, however, like open loops. I don’t like not knowing, thoughts and sentences and relationships left unfinished, unattended. Is this a situation where a “break up” is necessary? An admission of acceptance for the way things have come to be? If it stays paused forever, then I never get the chance to say goodbye, that I love her and loved every moment of our friendship, that I am a better person having known her. But to break up…it’s so final. As much as I want the chance to say these things if there’s nothing for us going forward, I don’t want to say goodbye. I can’t fully accept that my other half is now just an empty space in my life.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the stupid things we did, the stuff we giggled at, the copious amounts of alcohol we shared in each other’s company. I want my friend back. I can’t force my friend back.

And so it rests.