Monday, November 26, 2007

Grief.

I just lost my best friend, and it was my fault (to a degree). You see, me and my friend have been friends for a few years now. We became friends because we both got depressed, in varying degrees, and we could understand each other. Yes, we dated. Yes, we broke up. And after we broke up, I began to see who he really was, without the rose colored glasses that comes with infatuation. He teased me. A lot. He annoyed me to the extent that I wanted to beat him up. A lot. It all became too much for me. Consequently, I have been going to therapy. I've been getting a lot better, whereas for him...well, he hasn't. This created an imbalance, and I felt that I needed some time away from him so that I could focus on getting better. Hopefully, he would get better too, and maybe realize that my pleadings and worries for him may actually be something to take heed of. So, last Saturday (after an anxiety attack, with hyperventilation and all) I sat him down to breakfast and told him everything. I told him about some rough patches I've been through, and also about the worries and fears I have for his well-being. I then told him that "I need a break from us" and he seemed to be ok with it until...he reached out to hold my hands, and I pulled away and said "please don't touch me." I didn't say it maliciously or with revulsion. But that's how he took it. He then paid our bill and left, after saying "Have a nice life." I was NOT repulsed in any way, shape, or form. The only reason I didn't want him to touch me because it would make an already difficult thing for me that much harder. So, after getting my heart torn apart and trampled on, my mom tried to cheer me up by taking me shopping. When we returned, there was a plastic bag, full of all the stuff I had ever given him, with a post-it note saying "here's your stuff. --**** (his name)" This just made it harder for me. I really felt that this was an extremely immature act on his part, and really showed that he really didn't understand why I did this. I tried to explain to him via email, but he wrote back saying that he gave back the stuff because he couldn't bear the memory of me. Did he think that I could either? He said that it would be safe with me. Well, I gave the stuffed animal to my dog to be shredded. I'm going to give the shirt I gave him to charity. I'm going to burn the drawings I drew him. AND I'm going to give the dictionary I gave him to someone who will actually use it. If he DARES to ask for his stuff back, then I'll tell him what I did with it. I see this as a sign from him that he doesn't want anything to do with me. He even wrote on his blog that I "disowned" him. This has been a very difficult few days for me, so if you'll forgive me for not posting for a while...I'm going to go and take a nap now. Take Care, and I hope and pray that you all will never have to have to do this to a close friend. P.S: I got a new laptop for Christmas. It should be coming in this week.

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