Hello, Old Friend

I almost called you the other day. It’s been almost 3 years, since I have heard your voice. And that was my choice. I know. I’ve reached out since then, with no response from you. I understand.

But when shit hit the fan and my world felt like it was crashing down around me… you were who I wanted to call.

You were who I thought would care. You were who I thought would be there for me.

But I didn’t call. 

I don’t want to bother you. I don’t want to be rejected by you. I don’t want to open a can of worms that might bring more heartbreak into my life.

I don’t want to guilt you into talking to me.

So much has happened in the last 3 years and you don’t know about any of it.

Just weeks after our last conversation, one of my close friends died. I hadn’t gotten over losing you and I found myself grieving the loss of another friend. She was far too young, but at least her pain had ended. I needed you, but I knew I couldn’t call you. 5 months later, I moved 300 miles away from everything I knew. You would have been proud, but you didn’t know. 14 months later, I evacuated from Hurricane Harvey. What a crazy thing to live through. Not knowing what we had left. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t.

And now… My mother has cancer. 

I drove and I drove and made it to my safe place. The ocean. I sat there at the water’s edge and you were who I wanted to turn to. You were the person who came to my mind. But I froze. I couldn’t call you. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t call you. I had ended our friendship. I had told you that I was done. I had sent you a freaking letter to say “no more.”

So, how could I call you now? I couldn’t. So, I didn’t. 

I sat there, staring at the water and cried. I cried for my mom. For the pain she must be going through. I cried for my dad. For the thoughts he must be having. I cried for my sisters. For the fears they must have. I cried for my husband. For the sadness he must feel. I cried for my kids. For the innocence they would lose.

I cried for myself. For the thoughts going through my head. For the fear of losing my mother. For the regret and guilt of not being there. For the idea of not having my mother anymore. For the future I thought we all would have.

I sat there and cried. 

As it felt like the world was raining down on me, it literally rained down on me. I cried and it rained.

After I wiped my tears and calmed my breathing and started my drive back home, the rain came to a stop. A clearing was made in the sky. I knew that things would be okay.

I don’t know if I’ll call you. I know I want to, but for the reasons I mentioned and so many more, I won’t.. At least, for now.