Okay ... so I'm admitting it. I need therapy. No shit. No jokes. I need therapy.
I'm taking this on me. I'm admitting it's my problem. I'm admitting that no one else is to blame. I'm admitting that no one else but me can fix this.
My friend J sent me an odd e-mail this morning. It simply said, "Give me your opinion on this house ..." and below was a link to a realtor's listing.
It was a very nice, upscale house ... just a hair under $200k. I'm going to be honest ... I didn't look at the details of the house. I can't tell you how many rooms it had ... how many bedrooms or baths. I didn't look at the pictures of the rooms or the property. I just saw the large splash image on the top of the listing.
I wrote him back and said, "That's a nice looking house. Are you buying it with Stitcher?" He responded that he's already checked with the bank. Once his house sells, he'll be pre-qualified for $200k on his own ... without Stitcher's income. So the two of them are starting to look at houses now ... just to see what's on the market for when he gets his house sold.
I have so much resentment. Just so much. And as I said before ... this is on me. I'm not blaming him ... I'm not angry with him. I have this deep-down sadness that goes down to my bones ... and I know it isn't his fault.
I'm sad ... and a little angry ... because he lived in a shitty little house with my best friend. It was a dirty, run down little house. And now he's buying a $200k house with his new girlfriend ... with the money he got when she died. You know who would've loved to have lived in a $200k house? My best friend.
I'm not stupid. I'm not insane. Well, at least not clinically ...
I understand that none of this is J's fault. I don't think he should be sentenced to live in a small, dingy house the rest of his life just because that's where he lived with my friend. It's not like he killed her ... and he was her husband for twenty years ... so her life insurance should obviously have gone to him.
What I'm saying is that I recognize the logical side of this situation. I don't have a problem with who he is dating now ... or that he's dating at all. I don't have a problem with him moving. I don't have a problem with him being happy.
I guess if I'm psychoanalyzing myself ... I have an issue with the fact that he's living this new, garish lifestyle ... wine tastings and concerts every weekend ... and he's living it because we lost her.
Again ... I recognize logic. Maybe this is who he always was ... but he couldn't be that way when he was with my friend. She was far from perfect. She wasn't always an easy person to be with. And I know that even if they had that kind of money when she was alive ... the lifestyle he's living now isn't a lifestyle she would've agreed to. Her family was full of hopeless drunks. She was the only sober leaf on her family tree. So she wanted nothing to do with alcohol. So maybe he finally feels free to be the person he always wanted to be? Mentally I can accept that.
But emotionally ... these grand announcements of his? Each one feels like a punch to the chest.
Again ... not his fault ... but when he announced that he'll be taking Stitcher on a trip to London, Paris, and Rome in the spring ... my heart ached. And when he showed me that house today ... I teared up. I can't help thinking about that horrible house they lived in ... the tiny ramp ... the hospital bed along the living room wall and the potty chair next to the window ... cat hair a half inch thick on everything.
I know I've said it before ... but for me, I feel like when she died, a part of me died too. But I look at him and think, when she died, he hit the lottery.
I want to feel happy for him ... but all I can feel is sadness. And worst of all ... I dread the day that I know is coming. I dread the day I'm going to have to go to a lavish wedding and sit there and smile for everyone else ... while my heart breaks and I think to myself, "Her life insurance paid for this ..."
When the best part of me was always you?
And what am I supposed to say
When I'm all choked up and you're OK?
The Script - Breakeven
Perhaps when your friend passed away, so did your friendship with him, the him that he was back then. New people sometimes need new friends. Why beat yourself up over this? Perhaps no friendship is better than a painful one.
ReplyDeleteSIGH ... I keep trying to post and it keeps not publishing. UGH ... let's try this one more time ...
ReplyDeleteWhen my friend first died, I had a friend on the West Coast that used to write me almost daily. She'd gone through almost the same thing ... her best friend died slowly and painfully from cancer ... and right after it happen, her widow became this completely different person ... spending her life insurance lavishly ... expecting everyone, including their children, to meet (and accept with open arms) the new girlfriend he'd met only a month or so after his wife died.
ReplyDeleteSo she told me to prepare myself ... that J and I wouldn't be friends in the near future. And told me to remember that, from his point of view, he wasn't doing anything wrong ... but from my point of view, everything happy and wonderful that happened would seem like a betrayal to my dead friend.
At the same time, my Mom was telling me not to get my feeling hurt ... to remember that whatever woman he ended up with, she would most likely want nothing to do with Stoney or me. That we were part of J's "old world" ... and that she would want to incorporate him into "her world." And for the most part, that's been very true.
We barely speak anymore ... although we're supposed to get together for Christmas ... and he's told people that I'm "his last tie to K." I can respect that ... but I can't keep hurting. I've been honest with him. About a year ago he asked if he was making me sad. I told him that I wanted him to be happy ... and I wanted him to KNOW that I wanted him to be happy. But likewise, I wanted him to know that I wasn't done grieving. So yes ... some of things he said did make me sad. Even after saying that, he can't stop sharing things I don't need or want to know.
What it boils down is that you're right ... this relationship has about reached an end. We are about as disconnected as you can get while still speaking now and then. I feel ... not to be insensitive ... like I'm beating a dead horse at this point. He's going to keep bragging about this wonderful new life and all the amazing things they're doing ... and I think I just need to quit listening.
May you find the strength to move on. Good luck. I know how hard the road away can be.
ReplyDelete