Today marks 8 months since “the incident”. That sounds like such a long time. It exhausts me just thinking about how many ups and downs I’ve experienced within those months. I’m lucky that my marriage didn’t suffer from my idiocy. Not even for a day. I, on the other hand, have had my fair share of suffering a wide range of emotions including self-loathing, grief, regret, and heartbreak since that day. Thankfully, those feelings have been almost eradicated. I don’t want to paint the picture that I’m completely unaffected by what happened because it would be misleading. As much as I wish I could say I have absolutely zero emotions attached to what happened, I can’t. I used to really beat myself up anytime I’d experience any sadness or feelings of missing him, but over time I’ve evolved past that line of thinking. It would be unnatural for me to not reflect on it. I’m very sentimental and I’ve always been one to put my whole heart into every friendship or relationship I’ve ever had. The fact that this one was a moral fail doesn’t change the way I process my thoughts and feelings. I think time has brought with it an acceptance of that fact. Not of what I took part in, but of the fact that I have feelings that weren’t demolished in an instant the way that the friendship was.
Some days I feel regret for the relationship I formed with him and other days I feel regret that I don’t feel regret about what happened. I’ll always regret unleashing my crazy on him, but as for what we shared…well, it’s complicated. I was completely transparent and vulnerable with him because I chose to be. I wanted to know and be known by him because I genuinely enjoyed his friendship. He was initially more surface friendly and emotionally distant, but it didn’t take long for those barriers to come down enough for him to share things with me that he’d never shared with anyone before. Those moments where I felt like our souls connected and our friendship was making me feel alive – I don’t regret those moments at all. I miss them.
There are moments here and there that I still feel a twinge of sadness when I allow myself to really think about the fact that he hates me. I don’t mean dislike either…we’re talking the kind of hate reserved for Hitler, Stalin, or the lady at the DMV who tells you she can’t help you after you’ve waited in line for 3 hours on a hard, dirty folding chair while sandwiched between two people who probably have the flu. It sucks to think that anyone hates me, and it sucks even worse to know someone I cared for and adored hates me. Eight months later there are still times that I have to remind myself that something doesn’t have to last forever to have value. Every significant friendship and relationship I’ve ever experienced have shaped me in some way and are a part of who I am.
Chuck Palahniuk wrote in Invisible Monsters, “Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.” This resonates with me. Whether it’s friends, lovers, family members, teachers, or co-workers – I am who I am today because of what I experienced with each and every one of them. I am made up of all of the love, joy, heartbreak, disappointment, success, failures, beginnings and endings I lived through with them. He is no different. I carry our interactions – both good and bad – within me.
Currently playing in the soundtrack of my mind: Kiss Off by Violent Femmes. I talked to my BFF from college today and she mentioned she had run into someone we used to hang with back in the day and one time he did a hilarious (and very drunken) lip synching rendition of that song at a party and we have never let him forget his epic performance. So yeah…that’s my song right now.