Vol II: #10 Today, I Mourn
2020 was the year I shed, by choice or by providence, limiting beliefs and sour relationships. I chose faith in the hardest of moments and found grace where none existed in the past. This blog is full of those stories— how I walked through my worst fears and began to love me. And, I wrote a lot about my old business partner, my ex-girlfriend too.
Last fall, I wrote two brief blogs about a sour friendship. My friend was increasingly sarcastic and bitter. Most of her texts centered on displeasure with her job and community. All of her friends were stupid or weird. Her boss was an idiot and beneath her. Daniel is so lucky to have me, she’d say. When I pressed her to make a change, she piled up excuses like a beaver building a dam. She was the queen of excuses; I can’t do that; it would embarrass them.
I met this woman 20 years ago when I was young and immature. We attended the same ministry school for a year. After that year, she moved back to Canada. And despite the distance, she maintained a relationship with a mutual friend. In the fall of 2002, the young man passed away in a car crash. I don’t believe my friend ever really recovered from it. Maybe that’s not true, but it feels like it could be. My Canadian friend doesn’t seem to have emotionally matured past what you’d expect of someone in their early 20’s. The biggest evidence of this is her relationship with her mother— where she maintains a textbook codependent child/parent relationship. Again, I’ll emphasize this is all from my point of view as an outsider.
I can positively say that her thrust of life and adventure waned significantly over the last ten years. She’s got no plan and no power. Her sarcasm and wisecracks are thick and sharp. Whenever I tried to address it with her, she deflected my criticism. Your too sensitive, she’d say. Our last blowup was over coronavirus. As hospitals in Los Angeles overflowed and people suffered, she denounced government intervention as useless. Her words dripped a bitter cold judgment—no compassion or understanding. No empathy. At that point, I couldn’t member why we were friends.
I would’ve preferred to end our friendship on a high note, like one of us getting married. But, how many friendships truly end on a high note? It’s not common. Very few of us will get the opportunity to say goodbye to someone we love at a proper and long moment. I can say I wish the ending of my friendship with Ms. Canada went better. But, how do you tell someone you don’t want to listen to them bitch about everything in their life? Given her track record of rationalization and deflections, I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t take it well.
The reason I write about her today is that I must. Here and now, I’m going to admit some hidden secrets from the Nik files. Today is the day I am admitting to God and myself some truths about me and Ms. Cananda.
To start, in 2009, I made a romantic advance toward my friend, which she rejected. (This is a not-so-secret moment. Just wait.) I moved on, and we maintained our friendship. By 2011, thanks to Whatsapp, I texted my friend every day. In fact, I know I didn’t text anyone more than her from 2011 to 2019. Because of the distance, I didn’t really talk about my pen pal to anyone else. We would chat about the Oscars or the Olympics and share pictures of daily life. We texted from sun up to sundown. At times we maintained an emotional connection beyond normal. On a few occasions, I wondered if I should make another move. As you know, I never did. In the Fall of 2014, I put away any thoughts of dating my friend. I knew her too well.
What’s funny is I’ll never really know if she thought any of that. Ms. Canada isn’t about to embarrass herself or be honest. I know for a fact she had thoughts or feelings (or something) at least once or twice. I’m not that stupid. However shallow or short, they’re were moment. Who sends a guy pictures of dead grandparents? Or texts deep into the night? That’s not normal guy/girl friendship stuff.
When our friendship ended last fall, I tried to sweep my way past it as if she was an old shoe. I didn’t cry or mourn the loss of someone dear to me. Today, the Lord shined a light on that moment last fall. Today is the day he decided to expose a blind spot in my vision. I miss my friend. She’s a good woman with a massive heart. The fear boxed her into a safe and slow march to hopelessness. I’ve got compassion for that. She didn’t consciously choose to lose hope and courage. It was beaten out of her one disappointment at a time.
I haven’t mourned many broken friendships. Again, when most friendships end, there’s no parade or memo. It just ends. But, I am mourning the loss of my friend today. I hope she’s doing ok. I pray moves past fear and doubt. If she were here, she’d tell me I’m wrong. She’s not afraid of anything, rather waiting on the Lord. That’s what people say when they are statues, and they want to be statues. To admit to fear or despair would be shameful, an admission of the damned. I don’t care. Toward the end of our friendship, she made me feel like shit. Often. I had to own my behavior, which required me to lay down boundaries. You know how that went. So, I didn’t make a mistake. It was time for the friendship to end.
Today, I mourn.
