I think of you as an ex-husband really...
October 03, 2002 11:16 p.m.
You are the first person I fell passionately into anything with. Even though it was only friendship, I often felt as if we were married in a way. For that first summer, we functioned as a unit. We were together more than 12 hours a day, pushing curfew to spend a few more minutes driving in the moonlight and knowing that neither of us wanted to go home. It was a time of discovery for both of us; for me, a drivers license, for you: high school and the end of life in the closet. It was life outside, even though that was different for each of us.We were far too passionate about our friendship for our own good. We would run hot and cold. Our moods could change in a second. Maybe it was a testament to our teenage hormones, but I'd like to pretend that it was just the way our relationship functioned. Our good days somehow seemed to outnumber the bad, but our bad days were a tormented reality where nothing could be trusted.
I will never forget the night you walked home from work after a fight. I felt like you betrayed me, like you walked out on me in order to hurt me. I remember my heart pounding in my chest as I lost sight of you in the field. I remember my lungs starting to burn as I grabbed a flashlight and tried to follow. I drove home in silence, dreading making a call to your mother explaining why I wasn't driving you home. What could I possibly say? "I'm sorry Ma'am, your son is somewhere between here and there.... here being Shamokin and there being Knoebles."
I remember later that night, the phone ringing at 3am. I sat up panicked, thinking something horrible had happened. Bev walked into the room saying "The Police want you to come show them where you last saw him. They want to try putting the dogs on his trail. They can't find any trace of him and it's been almost six hours now."
I remember the tension that filled the car during our drive towards the park, and the relief that washed through me when the Police met us at the bridge and told us you had made it home and were safe.
I remember the trips we would take every week. We wold go anywhere just to get out of the house and out of Shamokin. We'd troll the mall, making repeated visits to the Gap and American Eagle just so you could cruise those two hot guys.
I remember you being there for me through everything. No matter how horrible, you were there for me and you never let me forget it. No matter how many times I hung up on you while I was in the hospital, you called me back. You weren't willing to let me give up.
Now, I wonder how much was real, and how much you created. How much did you manipulated me?
I remember that weekend in the spring semester this year. I remember how it signaled the end of it all. It began with the email you sent saying, "By the time you read this, I will be dead." The panic I felt when I read those words was overwhelming. The tears I was afraid to shed burned my eyes. My anger boiled inside my soul. My mind was screaming, "You wouldn't let me do this! Why should I let you?"
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing I could do. I was angry, frustrated, scared, and helpless. Who could I call? Not your parents. What could I possibly do to make this hopeless situation any better? I cried on Jess's shoulder that night while she tried to comfort me; she stopped me from driving home to you at 3 in the morning. No matter how much I wanted to, we both knew there was nothing I could have done at that point.
I remember that night... and the nights afterward. I remember the hurtful words you said that I didn't understand, and the whispered lies that you spread about me even though I did not know what I had done to earn your hatred.
In the end, it was cathartic for me. It was the last great quarrell of our doomed romance. It was the night that you finally walked out of my life into the darkness. Next month I signed the divorce papers without even going to court to fight you. I let you burn the bridges that has sustained both of us for so long.
It hurt immensely to fall out of friendship with you. But the passion of the good moments was worth even the worst days. It is part of the life that I have chosen to live, I suppose. But this weekend every year I will remember you more vibrantly and with vivid detail. I will remember your endearing smile, your attempts at fashion, and the qualities about you that I cherished. I'll carry the lessons I've learned in my heart until the next time I fall passionately for someone - whether it be friendship or perhaps, someday, love.
rewind
- fast
forward
