a fragment
we met at a sleepy party in a friend's immaculate house only a few doors down the street from my own. she showed up late with the host's boyfriend, apologizing for being driven to the party. i jokingly apologized for walking and got a dirty look. but she was too tired to hold a grudge that night, and as she took a ride home from the last person to depart, i dragged myself home too, drained from staying past the limits of my social tendencies to bask in her laugh.
i made the boyfriend pass on a note from me to her, his co-worker. how i'd enjoyed meeting her and wanted to see more of her. she wrote a laughing reply to the note via email and told me she knew who i was. how? she was ran the campus directory and had done some poking. she was interested! i felt the butterflies...they blossomed into something kind of intense and beautiful. but fleeting. we were momentarily great, then good, then awesome, then terrible, then trying to repair, then giving up.
she taught me some incredible life lessons. put her actions where my words were: you can do anything you really try to. she turned me from a recreational cyclist into a biker, a thing to identify as and live and breathe. she taught me how to ride, how to fix my ride, how to fix my body when it broke, how to do it with style and finesse. some of the most valuable applied lessons anyone had ever taught me about living my own life--and she taught entirely by example. and i worshipped her for that.
when we separated, it was an explosion. she'd already absorbed much of my circle of friends and wasn't ready to let go of some people i loved--my best friend, my sister. i had to agree to be not-not friends, a concept i couldn't understand, but the communication was so far broken that i couldn't even figure out how to ask her to explain, really, and so apparently there was to be no more talking. no more eye contact. just an awkward separation and her running out of the room when i came into the party second.
then she taught me another thing, as i rehashed events over and over, in my head, to my 20 closest friends and some distant ones. as i tried to figure out where i'd gone wrong--i'd never in my life lost a friend other than to death, not an ex, not anyone i'd cared about, especially not so deeply, for so many months. i was distraught and grasping, gasping, hoping that she'd make time, take effort, to tell me how i'd failed. how to prevent future tragedy.
and on new year's eve, as i told the story (for at least the 30th time) of her and me to a new friend, met in person but friendship created over 2000 miles of internet, she called me. talking to tinyfroglet, asking what to do? how could i talk to her when it always ended in tears? i needed to! but i didn't trust talking. or words. they'd caused the explosion, implosion, and built the moat. she didn't understand. i didn't understand. and tinyfroglet told me not to answer the call. and R texted and said there was no other chance. and tinyfroglet told me, it is NOT YOUR FAULT, IT IS HERS.
and that was a good lesson to learn. sorry to the other 29+ of you i couldn't take that news from. you all helped break down that wall and make me well again.
she's still crazy and i don't care and it's great. and when i think of her i get a little misty eyed--i still want to say thank you for the huge positive change in my life. but that wouldn't work. doesn't, when i try it. i miss her. and, eqaully, i miss the me who believed that every friendship was salvageable.
i made the boyfriend pass on a note from me to her, his co-worker. how i'd enjoyed meeting her and wanted to see more of her. she wrote a laughing reply to the note via email and told me she knew who i was. how? she was ran the campus directory and had done some poking. she was interested! i felt the butterflies...they blossomed into something kind of intense and beautiful. but fleeting. we were momentarily great, then good, then awesome, then terrible, then trying to repair, then giving up.
she taught me some incredible life lessons. put her actions where my words were: you can do anything you really try to. she turned me from a recreational cyclist into a biker, a thing to identify as and live and breathe. she taught me how to ride, how to fix my ride, how to fix my body when it broke, how to do it with style and finesse. some of the most valuable applied lessons anyone had ever taught me about living my own life--and she taught entirely by example. and i worshipped her for that.
when we separated, it was an explosion. she'd already absorbed much of my circle of friends and wasn't ready to let go of some people i loved--my best friend, my sister. i had to agree to be not-not friends, a concept i couldn't understand, but the communication was so far broken that i couldn't even figure out how to ask her to explain, really, and so apparently there was to be no more talking. no more eye contact. just an awkward separation and her running out of the room when i came into the party second.
then she taught me another thing, as i rehashed events over and over, in my head, to my 20 closest friends and some distant ones. as i tried to figure out where i'd gone wrong--i'd never in my life lost a friend other than to death, not an ex, not anyone i'd cared about, especially not so deeply, for so many months. i was distraught and grasping, gasping, hoping that she'd make time, take effort, to tell me how i'd failed. how to prevent future tragedy.
and on new year's eve, as i told the story (for at least the 30th time) of her and me to a new friend, met in person but friendship created over 2000 miles of internet, she called me. talking to tinyfroglet, asking what to do? how could i talk to her when it always ended in tears? i needed to! but i didn't trust talking. or words. they'd caused the explosion, implosion, and built the moat. she didn't understand. i didn't understand. and tinyfroglet told me not to answer the call. and R texted and said there was no other chance. and tinyfroglet told me, it is NOT YOUR FAULT, IT IS HERS.
and that was a good lesson to learn. sorry to the other 29+ of you i couldn't take that news from. you all helped break down that wall and make me well again.
she's still crazy and i don't care and it's great. and when i think of her i get a little misty eyed--i still want to say thank you for the huge positive change in my life. but that wouldn't work. doesn't, when i try it. i miss her. and, eqaully, i miss the me who believed that every friendship was salvageable.