An Unspoken Conversation

The following is a true story, but to protect the not-so innocent, names will not be used. You know who you are.

We grew up together, but we are very different, you and I. And that's OK. We were friends as kids, but as we grew-up we grew apart. As young adults we went on our own separate paths, and for the next 7 years there was very little communication. In fact for many of those years there was not a single word exchanged. I never really understood why, but nonetheless, I grew to like it that way. I wanted you to stay gone. Things were easier that way. There was less drama to forge through. Yeah, I liked you being gone. That's awful to say out loud: It's awful to type: It's awful to read. It's the awful truth.

But then, you came back. Back into our lives. And little by little, it was nice. It was healing. It was friendly. It was fun. Eventually it was like we were family. It was real. It was nice for a long time. And then it wasn't. Because then, out of the blue, with no explanation, you were gone again. It's now been almost 2 years without a word. Not. One. Word. You wouldn't even acknowledge me (or him) last time we saw you. Not even eye contact, though we were sitting at the same table and involved in the same conversation. You ignored him when he said goodbye to you directly. You didn't speak. He was 20 months old.

I go back to: you and I are different. But that's OK. We will never be the best of friends. We will never have to talk to each other daily, or share all of our inner-most secrets. But that's OK. Correction: that's OK with me. The hard part about any relationship is that you accept the good and the bad in people you care about. That's just how life works. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have: The Facts Of Life. It really is true. But you, you are all or nothing. And I guess since it's not exactly what/how you want, it's nothing.

Years ago following the fun weekend we had at your college graduation, you wrote me a letter telling me how sorry you were for missing my college graduation a few years before. I was the first person EVER in my family to graduate college, and you missed it. You told me you were sorry for that, and that you never thought about how much that must of hurt me, and that you were sorry for that as well. I believed you. So now let me tell you what else you have missed in the past two years. I think someday, you will be sorry for missing these things as well:
~He turned 1
~He learned to walk and talk
~I got rid of the Jetta
~He lost his job
~He turned 2
~She lost her job
~After 16 months of looking, he found the perfect job and embarked on a new career...one that the old you would have been proud of and could have helped him with
~She started her own business. Again, the old you would have been so proud of her too
~He learned to peddle his trike all by himself
~Kitty had to be put down and it devastated them

And now...he's about to turn 3.

You two would have been buddies. He would have loved you like no other. You could have taught him so much. He would have thought you were so fun and cool. He would have filled your heart with love and joy and laughter. But he will never get to know you. He is disposable to you. You proved it. He was 11-months-old when you walked away in silence. He did nothing. You will not get the chance to break his heart or treat him like nothing. You will not get another chance to break my heart, or treat me like nothing. I will not allow you close to him knowing that at any time, you can walk away with no explaination and leave him wondering what he did. You do not get to know him. And that's a shame for you.

I am so very sad and angry with you. Sometime more sad than angry, sometimes more angry than sad. Sometimes both at the same time, as I am right now. Mostly, I am disappointed in the person you are today. For my part, if I could go back and undo whatever I did to set this in motion, I would. But in your silence, you have left me not knowing if I even did anything at all. So all I can say is that if I had a part in your pain, I am sorry. There are two sides to every story, and I wish you had cared enough, respected me enough, or at least been mature enough to have that conversation. I think that says more about you than it does about me. I have spent the past 2 years making a concerted effort to not do or say anything that you could twist around against me. I own my part of the relationship ups and downs, but for the record, I put the past 2 years squarely on your shoulders.

So this is it, this is my closure. We never said goodbye, so for what it's worth, two years later, this is the best I am going to get. Sometimes things aren't right...don't make sense...aren't fair. Sometimes you don't get to have the kind of closure you would like. Sometimes you have to create it for yourself...move through the experience and on to your new life. Now is my time.

We will never again be friends. We will never again be family. That is a choice I made: you don't get a vote. There is no trust there, and I will not allow you to hurt him the way you have hurt the rest of us. You prove daily in your absence and distant actions what we all mean to you. I don't forgive you for what you have done. I will someday, but even then, I will choose to not know you. My heart can't take it. I don't fear loosing anything by writing this, as we have all already lost. What's done is done and it can't be taken back. It really is too bad.

I wish you happiness in life. I wish you lessons you haven't learned, knowledge you haven't gained, and love you haven't found. I wish you peace.

But it didn't have to be this way.