ONCE

Reflecting this morning....

I had a friend, once... I say "had" because he is no longer my friend. Not because I don't want to be his friend. He chose. Not because he is dead. But he chose not to be my friend anymore. I did all the things he told me to do to remain his friend. I gave up all rights to reciprocity. I gave up all rights to being respected, to being heard, to having information... I let him make all the rules. I even begged. I apologized. I begged. I groveled. And, did I say... begged. I think he took perverse pleasure in my begging. In the pain his control caused... or I should say, I let it hurt me. Maybe that's the point. I gave away all this power in this friendship. Because I wanted it. And how's this for perversion... still want it. But he chose. And does not want to be my friend. Nothing of what I gave in the friendship matters. And I gave too much. I didn't think so at the time. But I spent money. And time. And emotional capital. And it--the friendship--cost me so much. In so many ways. And the perverse part of it still? I have no regrets for the cost. But he doesn't care about that. Or about me. And I'm surprised that he doesn't care about me. I had a friend... or at least I think I did... I ... think...


© Valerie Bridgeman
June 21, 2013