Monday, December 26, 2011

A Different Kind of Grief

I always think holidays are going to get better.
And in ways they do.
Of course, thoughts of Roger increase this time of year.
Missing him increases.
Especially with a new year approaching. A different year number.
It is quite a concrete reminder of exactly how far away Roger's physical existence is in my life.

And this year I have some new types of grief.
Like the loss of friends.

And I keep thinking about the loss of this particular "best friend".
Like always, hindsight is 20/20.
I keep slapping myself for being so naive.
So gullible. So believing. So stupid.
I should have seen it coming.
I should have seen the red flags over the last year.

We were supposed to be pregnant together.
And as your "best friend" you did not tell me when you changed your mind.
As someone who spent afternoons at your house sharing my life and trying to be the best friend I could be, you waited to tell me in a group of people that you were more than three months along.
And although I was very excited and happy for you, after a little digestion of the new information I kept thinking of how it should have been me.
If Roger had not died.
I did not know I would have this reaction.
I did not even see it coming till it was sitting on my lap in a group of eight people and I swallowed my grief for you.
But you said you knew my reaction would happen.
A best friend would have told me alone.
On one of the countless afternoons at your house.
But you didn't.

You were the one who gave me the title of best friend.
Yet not a single picture of you and me in your house.
Red f-ing flag.

The next red flag was at my graduation party.
My emotions were running high.  I needed you.
I graduated.
In the same room as Roger.
Because Roger died.
Because I could afford to go to school full time.
Because Roger was not there.
You offered your help.
I accepted. Stupid me.
Then you came five minutes before other guests.
Without helping at all.
You barely even spoke with me.
But again I forgave you.
I was the fool once more.

Giving you all I could for your baby shower.
The cake you wanted.
Driving four hours to be with you.
To celebrate you.
And trying to shower you with gifts to show how much I cared.
Stupid, stupid me.

Red flag again when picking out dresses for my wedding.
You could not leave me fast enough.
And when I mentioned coming to help you in your nursery.
I sensed the hostility.
But I ignored it.
Ignored the red flag flying in my face.
I ignored the sirens going off in my head.

Then to find out you did not want me at the hospital when your baby was born.
Or when complications arose.
To find out in a mass email message when others knew the day before.
What a shock to the system.

Then the email came.
All the hurtful things that were said to me.
To know that I was not loved.

What a fool I am.
What a stupid fool I am.
No more. No more.
But I still grieve.


Ferree Bowman Hardy said...

I hurt with you over this new grief, but please applaud yourself---you're never a fool to have been a friend, never a fool to forgive. You've accomplished some fantastic things, and learned some life lessons that will serve you well in the future. I pray 2012 will open some goodness and blessing for you.

Autumn said...

I am sorry you are dealing with this in addition to the other grief you carry. I can completely understand. My friends have changed a lot since John's death... i lost some and i gained some.... and it's been very hard and not easy. but, i am sure you have gained some amazing people .. not to mention your new best friend, kevin :)

Miss Jess said...

I'm a new follower... read through some of your posts and my heart just aches for you. Though I struggle with a very different grief (we all do) grief is grief, hurt is hurt, pain is pain... we as humans have one thing in common... Our hearts still beat. Not sure if you believe in the power of prayer, but I do and I will pray for you in hopes that God will bring you peace, comfort, healing.

Hira Animfefte said...

I am so sorry your friend did this to you. I can relate. I have lost both my best friends since Nelson died. It hurts. It really, really hurts. It's another grief on top of grief.