Dane and I are talking again… To an extent.
For those of you that have followed me for the past several years, I’m sure you are sighing and rolling your eyes at this point.
“What the fuck, Emma,” I hear you mutter under your breath. “Just walk away and for fucks’ sake stay away.”
Ok, maybe you aren’t muttering under your breath. Maybe you have to think back about which one that is. In all fairness, however; I am muttering to myself and I am pretty sure I heard Klutzy say something to that effect in low tones last time we talked. Just joking… Kind of.
We – Dane and I that is – have both been very busy with pandemic response life. I, of course, am an RN and have been doing swabbing and in general just working a frontline public service job. Dane, who retired from the Army a few years ago, had started a new career and now is an officer for the National Guard and in particular he is doing Covid-19 response in his home state of Michigan. Last we communicated, he said they were keeping a close eye on my state in case they needed to come here. Our state has gotten pretty bad with our Covid numbers, so…
Is it bad that I had a brief hope that he would come here and that I almost told him that if he happened to come even remotely near my county, to let me know and I’d try to see him? Sure it is, I didn’t say that thank goodness, though I had that urge.
I guess it just feels nice to be on friendly speaking terms again …Though it has really only been a handful of texts here and there this year. We got back in contact in April as the pandemic was starting, I let him know when I graduated back in May, we had a brief exchange in late November. In April, we had said perhaps we would actually talk when things calmed down, but they never really have and indeed, pandemic wise, it has gotten even worse in our region (we live in nieghbouring states.) So who knows if and when we will.
I truly don’t think it will ever actually be the same between us… Not like it used to be. Not “It’s you and me Emma, we gotta stick together” level ever again. One could hold on to the hope, I suppose. But I’ve been burned by my relationship with him too many times, and I am sure he feels the same way about me sometimes. Well, I dunno… He knows he’s an ass. The only time we’ve fallen out and I’m relatively sure my actions in particular hurt him was 12 years ago. I feel like a couple of the last times we’ve stopped speaking, while I was the one to walk away (and I probably uttered the words “fuck off” at some point) – he was the one pushing me away. He was the one making it impossible for me to stay.
I always still fucking cared and still heard his words ring in my ears, “It’s you and me Emma, we gotta stick together.” Yet, I knew my mental health couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let myself be the only one caring while he was absorbed in his own mind. I needed him to care back. I needed him to support me at the same time I was supporting him.
I knew… Know… he is proud of me. I know he respects that I am continuing my education and is proud of me getting my RN, etc. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t supporting my life decisions or anything like that. I mean, more on an emotional/mental health level we should have been supporting each other, not me being the only one trying.
Why am I always the one reaching out to him? Why am I the one that initiates us rebuilding our relationship every fucking time we fall out?
Because I fucking care and I can’t stop fucking caring and I hate it. I really do. Fuck you, Dane, for making me care this much about you.
Fuck you, for being someone I think about texting anytime I have good news I want to share. Fuck you, for encroaching on my thoughts anytime there is anything significant going on that gives me cause to worry about you and your safety.
Fuck you, Man. Fuck you for accepting David’s facebook friendship request again too. By the way. I know I pretty much said that to your face – or at least I’m sure you caught the vitriol from whatever I said about it. I honestly can’t recall as it hit an emotion in me I don’t care to recall again.
Fuck you that I am now going to fucking text you again to tell you about my new job, god damn it.