I was angry, but hurt more than anything. Hurt at your words and the way it all played out. Angry that you thought you could simply throw away friendship and think I’d be okay with that.
And I let it grow and fester inside of me, the hurt and the anger. I’d see you pop up here and there and each time I’d fill with rage and feel as though the stab wounds were fresh. I made myself pull back from the community of friends we shared. For awhile, I actually considered shutting it all down and starting over somewhere else. Not because you were there, although that did piss me off, but because of the feelings it created inside me. I didn’t like them, didn’t like that you could evoke them in me, and I didn’t like the person I was when I felt them.
But then it came together. And I don’t want to say that I suddenly understood, because, honestly, I understood from the beginning, but my emotions stood in the way. And, if I’m honest, selfishness, for being the one that lost you. But finally my pride was set aside, and my hurt feelings were let go.
In their place, I found compassion along with sadness. Sadness for our friendship that will never be. Sadness for obligations and guilt. Compassion because I know it’s not easy, making the decisions that need to be made, setting aside yourself for those you love.
And I’d like to reach out. Extend a hand in friendship and forgiveness. Listen and be there, in any way I can.
But I can’t.
Or rather I won’t.
I know myself well enough to know that it’s not in me to just sit back and watch the train wreck.
And I hope you understand why I stay away, why I don’t read or write. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I care too much.
*hugs and kisses* *always*