Let’s be honest here, I’m only writing this because I know you’ll likely never see it – and if you do, maybe you wouldn’t realize it is for you (since I changed your name and all.) I’ve done a lot of thinking about the past while I have been in process of writing my book, and now this blog…
I wish things could have been different. I am not taking blame onto myself, however; I should have known better. I should have stepped away and kept my distance. I shouldn’t have cared about your feelings, especially after that one night. But you had been my friend and I was concerned for you – knowing that you were about to get deployed. I wanted you to leave with no hard feelings. I wanted you to go on a positive note, because I was concerned for your well being.
However; you were obviously not concerned with my well being. At first, the morning after, you called me and said “we fucked up” and in that discussion we decided to try to pretend it didn’t happen and just go back to being friends until you left. How did we even think that would be possible? I don’t know.
With all the drinking you were doing around this time, I don’t know if you’d even still remember all the events around then. Maybe that would be in my favor if you ever do read this; maybe then you wouldn’t guess this is to you.
We went to Dane’s house a few days later for a BBQ and we stayed on opposite sides of the deck, avoiding eachother’s eyes. I stayed for long enough to be considered having made an appearance. Our eyes met – and I had to leave. I waved goodbye to everyone and walked out. Stopping on the front step to text Dane and ask him to follow me out. I don’t think you even knew that is when I let Dane know something was going on. I didn’t give him details though. He actually said he was wondering what was going on with us. There was a palatable tension between us that afternoon. If Dane could sense it – then obviously we were not handling being friends again. To be honest, we shouldn’t have even tried being friends after that – for propriety’s sake.
Later in the next week – on a Wednesday, if my memory serves me well, we were all supposed to meet up at Old Chicago for beers. I got dressed, went to work – honestly barely making it through my shift -I think I actually left early – because I was so depressed and disgusted with myself. I just couldn’t deal. I pulled up outside of Old Chicago and sat in my car sobbing. That’s when I decided I needed to tell my husband. I called you to tell you this. You let out a laugh, though not a joyful one, and said “No.” I told you it was the right thing for me to do. I tried to explain how the guilt and depression were eating me alive. You said “No. You won’t. You will not tell your husband.” It was a command. As if I was one of your soldiers. Then you hung up.
I called my husband anyway, while I sat in my car at Old Chicago. I was crying. He demanded that I come straight home. So after I composed myself, I tried calling you back. You wouldn’t even let me say it. You insisted I was not allowed to do it. I tried calling again after you hung up, but you didn’t pick up. I knew Dane was with you so I called him. I told him not to say anything to reveal that he was talking to me. Then I told him what happened and asked him to let you know a little later in the night. He was concerned that you would have another night in which he’d have to talk you down. I don’t know what otherwise happened that night. But I know you weren’t pleased with me after that. Hell, you changed into a completely different guy as far as I was concerned in that last month or so before you left.
Even then, you would call me periodically when you were drunk telling me we couldn’t be together because I was married. I was confused… What signals were you reading that made you think I wanted to be with you for real? This was not “lets be friends” behavior, David. One night you about made me feel like shit when you said that I was not the kind of girl you’d usually be interested in. It was the way you said it, David, thanks for the self esteem boost. And yet, you were the one calling me. You were the one that propositioned me again. I don’t know what was really going through your head, but you know how that appeared, right? It appeared that it was you that wanted me – even though you tried to push that back onto me. Like I was the one who started it all and wanted to continue it. I did neither.
I do remember one positive from around this time. I had been staying with Rae P. for a few days and we had gone somewhere and she had left early. You and I did not talk all evening, but when I asked Dane for a ride home, you interjected and said you were ready to go too, so you volunteered to drive me. I was unsure if that was a good idea, but you insisted. Apparently you must have wanted the chance to talk privately. We actually had a nice chat, it seemed like we were on the right track for being friends again. We talked about our issues as you drove me to Rae’s apartment. You gave me a hug before I got out of the truck. You said you were glad we had that talk and that we could be friends. I wished you luck on your deployment, told you to keep your head down and return safe. But everything was not amicable for long after that.
I took a lot of blame onto myself. I blamed myself for your negative behavior. Remember the night when the police questioned us about that hit and run? You had thrown your keys at me. You were out of hand that night – yet I apologized. Not only did I apologize profusely to you when I had done nothing wrong, but I apologized to the others at the party. I also apologized for “ruining your night” the next day. What the fuck did you do to me, David, that I would revert like that and believe that I had the need to apologize for your shortcomings?
God, David, I’ve been angry at you for years. I’ve been scared of you for years. You are not usually on the forefront of my mind, but when I do think about you it’s usually in a negative light… and that’s sad. I think of you once or twice a year when I want to listen to the CD you gave me, I think about you around St Patrick’s day, I’ve thought too much about you while writing my memoirs. It makes me sad to think I used to have such fun with you and I thought you were cool and funny and intelligent. There were a few negative traits, but you also had so many good traits… Back then I thought the good outweighed the bad. My memories were ruined by that last month, however.
That being said. I’ve held onto this anger and fear for too long. I’ve done a lot of thinking and I realized that I’m not angry anymore. The intimidation I feel when I think of you may take a little longer to get rid of. But I’m not angry. I wish things could have gone differently. I wish our friendship had not been thrown out the window like that. We may or may not have lasted in friendship this long anyway. Maybe we would have just grown apart, and that would have been fine with me.
I keep thinking if only I had done something differently, but I know there was not much else I could have done. You had your demons. I’ve wondered if maybe I could have been more understanding, yet I don’t know how I could have been – I let a lot slide. Haha, what was I going to do? Stand up and fight back? Yeah, right.
I don’t know exactly what your demons were – PTSD? Something to do with the aftereffects of all the drugs you did when you were younger? The fear of dying in Iraq? I just don’t know what the cause was for your behavior… But I can honestly say that I hope you have found peace from your demons. I can honestly say now, after seven years, that I hope you are doing well.
(and this DOES NOT mean I want you, David!!! 😛 )