This thing happened once. My good good friend hit on
me (wrong word, but anyway...) We had been friends a long time and he knew who I was, how I struggled with
relationships, and how I longed to have a real one, and how I was getting ready
to wanting a family, and how old I was. We were so close and did not had a
flirt vibe. He was married. Then he got divorced and made this pass or
proposition or I am not sure exactly what to call it, but he brought up the
idea of our being together, like in a real way.
The thought had never crossed my mind and then it did.
I had been working so hard to have the life I wanted and to figure out how not
to repeat my bad choices etc. My therapist suggested that since he knew me so
well and since we cared about each other and liked each other so much, that
maybe this was a good idea. Give him a year to heal from his divorce and be
opened to this being THE ONE. At first I was not having it and then I let the
idea settle in and figured I’d try. I started to believe that my therapist
might be right.
When I came back to him with my thoughts he was
clearly gone, far away. He said that he was ashamed for doing what he did, for
bringing it up.
I was devastated by his response. I remember the
silence on the phone. I remember the despair in my body. I was devastated
beyond what I know how to write. The trust issues, the betrayal, the rejection,
all compounded and I lost my dear friend. This person had always seen me, had my
back, knew me, liked me, and then it felt like he sucker punched me, planted
this idea that I was serious and thoughtful about, and then he pulled the rug
out from under me. It seemed a cruel joke, but I knew him too well to think
that it was on purpose. Still I did not know what it was.
Time passed and our friendship suffered and we parted
ways for a long spell. I always felt grateful for my willingness to try, my
willingness to truly open my heart to him because it open some door for me, it
brought into view and clarified what I really wanted and showed that I had the
ability to open my heart, which I needed to do in order to have what I wanted.
And most importantly, the experience made me grow, shifted some limitations in me. I was greatful that I never had to be afraid of opening my
heart again because I lived through it getting crushed. It was bad but not that
bad, I lived through it. I could do this (and I did).
Then, at some point, we were back in contact. Both of
our lives were different but our real friendship was remarkably still there. I
kind of love him like a family member, but a cool, fun one. All that story was
water under the bridge. Maybe part of that was because I was happy in my life,
not needy, or lonely or searching, like I had been. (Which btw is a great plug
for being happy, it really makes the stuff so unimportant.)
I write about it because in retrospect I can now see
my part, which I was blind to for so long. My wounds were not his fault. I was really just thinking about myself and not in empathy that he was in pain and losing his family. For some reason, karmic or whatever, that sort of “innocent
bystander’ is a role I have inhabited more than once where I have been hurt while
other people are trying to work out their stuff and I get caught in the
crossfire. Hmmmm. That sucks. But I am getting better at rebounding from
injuries of that nature. He also took responsibility pretty fast for his
mistake and bore the burden of it, which could not have been easy and which is
a great characteristic, just one I could not see or appreciate at the time. We
all make mistakes.
The bottom line is that that was just not my path,
this is. This life, these people, and I would never trade it. I really
benefited from the experience. So much of our challenges are gifts. I write this
to remind myself. Love you, Buddy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPG6Ak5FASk