Today I was thinking about cutting off my friend. I wasn't angry, I didn't do it to punish them or teach them a lesson. There just came a point where my heart said, "That's enough. You have the power to stop this. It's time to exercise it." So I did. Simple as that.
Tonight, I was thinking about when S "cut all ties" with me. I don't know if he'd blocked my phone by the time I got the text. But I replied, (in response to him explaining that I hadn't respected the boundaries he'd set):
"I'm sorry for that S. Your boundaries felt like the Grand Canyon to me. Obviously my attempts to shout across it were too much. Peace and love, K."
And it did seem, to me, like an extreme response to me just trying to understand what he wanted and to see if there was a way to come to a better understanding. In retrospect, with time healing all wounds, the whole scenario is kind of funny, with me saying, over and over again:
"I see that you're not talking to me. Do you not want to talk to me? I see that you're not talking to me. Do you not want to talk to me?" Ad nauseam, until he finally replied, "I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU!" and I got the satisfaction of saying to myself, "I thought so!"
I honestly, really and truly, just wanted to understand every facet of what was going on. These days, understanding why someone wants or thinks something is less important than the simple fact that they do. I've learned to find closure in different ways, that come from within. But when I first met him, I didn't have that skill. I felt that he owed me what I hadn't gotten from others. (Yes, I do kmow that's unreasonable.)
It seemed the last straw after a long, drawn-out separation from my ex; where my ex kept saying he wanted to work on the relationship (his idea) and slowly, over the course of almost a year, it became obvious that he didn't. Because he wasn't. But he refused to admit, maybe even to himself that he wasn't trying... I didn't think I could go through that again.
So when S started pulling the slow fade, I tried to get a direct answer as to whether that's what he was doing, which he couldn't or wouldn't give me. I was just angry at the universe for making me go through that uncertainty again.
Now, I'm in a totally different place. I'm still not a fan of the slow fade, but I can accept it for what it is. I don't know why he didn't even want to be friends, or at least friendly. I could speculate, but it would be just that. I don't know when it started, but I remember the first time I noticed it, and this awful feeling of dread and rejection settled into the pit of my stomach.
He'd invited me to a party. I remember someone asked me if I wanted a drink. Not wanting to get into the alcoholic thing, (and at the time, I was really, really still struggling with my sobriety) I flippantly declined saying, "No thanks, I front-loaded." Meaning the many years prior to that. I saw S looking at me assessingly. I don't know what he was thinking. I didn't think much of it at the time; but we left and he offered to drive someone home. He didn't really even say goodbye to me, just left me at my car and went on. I texted him that I'd enjoyed the party, but was disappointed that I didn't have a chance to talk to him and catch up. He never replied.
That was the beginning of the slow fade as I remember it. Two years later, I can look back at everything, my actions, thoughts and feelings, and remember them, but not relive them. What would I do differently now? I'd probably be more open about my hurt from the very beginning. I'm more willing to be vulnerable. I tried, very hard, to make sure I wasn't attacking him when I said, "Hey, this is really hard. Can you just tell me what you want?" I don't know what he heard. If he thought I was just looking for reassurance that he hadn't xhamged his mind. (Which I wasn't. I really and truly wanted "the truth".)
He also kept telling that he thought I wanted something. I kept telling him I didn't know what I wanted from him, I just liked being around him. That's still true today.
Look, it's all water under that bridge now anyway. I'm not exactly the same person I was then. I probably won't be the same person I am now in two more years. I'm really curious about his journey. He works hard, so I bet he's learned a lot of interesting things.
I wonder if he had to do it all over again, if he'd cut me off again, or sit down and talk to me. That's really an academic question. There are so many things about me that are different, (like, if you have a naked man in your bed, he's probably interested in having sex with you. I really and truly did not know/remember that. It took time to recover from my ex's emotional abuse around sex.) I'd just "be" different. I don't know exactly how that would look.
It's a fun exercise though. It's a chance to reframe the past, rather than rehash it. Forget what happened before. What would happen now? That seems like a much healthier way to consider the past.
So, those are my rambling thoughts for the night. Peace and love.