[I've become quite the potty-mouth, but I'm trying to be better, so I'll try and keep this post as profane-free as I possibly can.]
Tonight, I mourn for lost friends everywhere, for anyone. And, more specifically, mine.
What's worse though is that they're still here, alive and well. Losing a friend to death sucks for sure, but the inevitability of death makes us realize they're gone for good and accelerates the 7-stage grief process. But it's worse when they're alive and well, but don't give a damn about you. Right now I'm at... let's see: I'm past Denial, Guilt, Anger, and am now at the Depression stage, I guess.
I'll spare you the sordid details but, in a nutshell, it all started over some really trivial sh... I mean, stuff. That's not the point - a lot of relationships are broken over some unbelievably silly things. Thing is, if the warring parties are truly friends such things are merely bumps that are gotten over in a flash.
Like, I've argued quite violently in the past with some of my friends, but we've always made up in no time. Hmmm, let's see...
[This is an excerpt from a phone conversation]
"F you!" she said.
"F you too!" I said.
"Forget you! Forget about me!" she said.
"Fine!" I said.
"OK, don't forget about me yet," she said.
"I wouldn't," I said.
And that was it - we were friends again. Or how about this other one:
"What the f*** is your problem?!" I said.
"You better get off it or I'll kick your ass!" he said. [He could too]
"You know what, I ain't got time for this sh*t!" I yelled, and walked out the room.
A minute later I walked back into the room.
"Still on for Happy Hour?" I said.
"Hell yes!" he said.
And that was it.
You see where I'm going with this? That's what friendship is all about. But back to my mourning.
I used to go see my friends once, twice, three times a month [pun intended] over a 10-or-so-year period. How many times did they come to see me during that same period, with the exception of one of them? Once. No, I didn't stutter - once.
And believe it or not, as ludicrous as this may now seem, one of them once expressed their interest in coming over to see me but was unable to - or was unwilling - to expend the energy. So you know what I did? I drove 2 hours, picked them up, brought them back to my house, spent the night, then drove them back the next day. But I didn't mind it. I was just happy that my friend got to see my spot, that's all. But see, that might be my problem right there - I'd do anything for my friends.
But the rest of the story goes like this: I met this person who believed in me, who made me think I was the handsomest, smartest person in the world, with unlimited potential. [Liar! Kidding] This person pushed, encouraged, threatened me to go back to school and work my ass off, and I listened. I went back to school, worked my butt off, and have been doing so ever since. But that meant that I had little or no time to go see my other friends as frequently as I used to, and that escalated the beef I already had with them.
I've been over once or twice [in like 2 years] to see them, but has anyone come over to check on yours truly? Nope. For all they know I could be dead, and I realize now that I'm dead to them. Only one of them checks up on me on the regular, and has always done so. Not only that, but he's driven 3 hours over to come hang out a bunch of times. And for that he's my homie for life. Now that's friendship.
On to Stage 5.