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gypsy

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probably even know what you’ll say.. [16 Jul 2007|08:37pm]
As a young girl, I remember talking to my friends every day.. at school, after school, sometimes even in the middle of the night. It wasn't anything particularly special or exciting, it was just chit-chat, about the day or the guy (or girl) we were seeing, or any number of mundane, insignificant things. There were slumber parties, and beach trips, birthdays, snow days.. we never needed an excuse to talk or hang out, and we never had to 'fit' it in. It just happened. Every weekend, for years.

As we get older, friendships are trickier. There are often relationships, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives, kids, pets, jobs, bills, health issues, more bills, moving away.. even through all of that, I still believe that we are capable of keeping some connection to one another, if we choose to. Lately, it seems as though I am the only one.

Do friends in the same city go a month without calling one another, without even an email to say 'hey, how's it going..'? Do they become so absorbed in their own lives that they forget about the people around them? In their happier times, do they even recall the not-so-happy ones, when you rescued them when they ran out of gas, or held their hand through (another) abortion, or brought them chicken soup and medicine when they were sick? I don't forget those things, but I guess some people do.

I want to be 'above' this, and not be hurt. I want to be the 'better', 'bigger' person, and shrug my shoulders and walk away.. but after three years of friendship, I'm angry. I'm angry to only be called upon when things go bad. I resent the fact that my caller ID is only graced with your number when you want something from me. When you run off to Vegas after only knowing him three fucking weeks, and (surprise, surprise) he ends up being an abusive jerk, my phone rings off the hook..

Sometimes an outside perspective is the most telling. You spend years wondering why someone is treating you badly, why they're never around when you need them (or, in some cases, at all), wondering what you should do/could have done to make things better, wondering why things always seem to turn out the same, no matter what you do, don't do, or how hard you try to change them.

I have expectations (don't we all?), expectations that are not being met. They're nothing out of the ordinary or particularly demanding.. they're simple things, things everyone should already know. Like not forgetting my birthday, for example, after I've invited you to my party, and you've even offered to help set up and let me borrow a cookbook for the occasion, but when the day comes you can't be bothered to show up, let alone remember or even call. Or the fundraiser I arranged and invited you to, months in advance, and you said you'd get back to me, but you never did, and the day came and went without you. Then, after months of very little conversation, I delete my former MySpace profile, for reasons unrelated. After about a week or so, you notice, and panic, texting me, asking what's wrong, probably expecting to get a disconnect message because that's what I used to have to do to get your attention. I answer, politely, that nothing is wrong, and you continue, following with a dinner invite for that night, the first in months. You have a knack for knowing when you've pushed someone to their limits and just when to try to reel them back in with unexpected kindness, because you slight people so damned often it's just a natural response for you. Don't you get tired of playing damage control? It requires so much more effort than just being considerate in the first place.

The risks you took to become a part of my life again, only to fuck it up in the very same way you always have, amazes me. I should have told you to shove your offer of reconciliation disguised as well wishes up your arse, or better yet, not even responded. So many times I've said this is the 'last time'. Well, the last time has finally come. No, I won't be changing my phone number, or my email, this time. Do not interpret this as an invitation, now or in the future. Since you paid very little attention to me when we were so-called 'friends', you'll hardly feel it when we're not. It was never the friendship or any concern for me that kept you coming back, anyway. You don't like rejection. You can't stand someone not liking you, disagreeing with you, or walking away from you.

I've realized, over the past few years, that this is a game you play. You only miss me when I'm not talking to you, and look right through me when I'm standing right in front of you. You only want what you perceive you can't have. Like a kid in a toy store, you want whatever grabs your attention at the time, until you turn around and something bigger and better catches your eye. I won't be a ragdoll, used and discarded. I am not a toy, and I won't be played with.

It's been five weeks.. in another few weeks, you might notice that I've been unusually quiet. That my weekly emails have stopped. That I'm no longer keeping our friendship on life support. You'll wonder if the number you have for me is still any good, and when you call, expecting the worst, you'll hear my voice on the machine, just as it's always been, and maybe you'll leave a message. I probably even know what you'll say..
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disillusioned.. [16 Jul 2007|10:46pm]
Today, I saw a young girl (maybe mid-twenties?) sitting on the side of the road with her dog. She was holding a sign that said "we need a miracle.. and some H20!" It was sweltering hot, and we decided to bring her and the dog some water, some dog food and some apples and an unopened box of cereal. I asked her if she had a place to sleep and what had gotten her into this situation, and would they be ok? She said she had been living off the streets for the past 3 months, and that she just now was living in a week-to-week motel and trying to get a job as a sign holder for a furniture store. As we were standing there, after we'd given her the food and water, a cell phone rang. It wasn't mine or my husband's, it was hers. She quickly reached into her bag and shut it off, and thanked us profusely for the food and water. As she did so, I noticed bruising on the inside of her arm, where the elbow bends. I thought to myself that I shouldn't make any assumptions, and that at least maybe she and the dog would be able to eat, and went on my way..

This particular intersection that they were standing at is one that I pass frequently, as it is one of the main ways to get to our house. As we passed by later in the day, she and her sign and the dog were long gone, but there lay the unopened cereal box, the dog food, and the apples, on the side of the road.
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