The Leaving

"And if that's how you're going to leave, straight out from underneath, then we'll see whose sorry now..."
--mb20

Most of my life has been spent waiting for the other shoe to drop. One good day would almost certainly be followed by a bad one when I was growing up, and this has led to a very tough time living "in the moment." For I am always thinking of what would come, and planning for the time the rug would be pulled out from under me.

Because it always, always was.

One excellent day with the family would turn into battles the next. As we've grown and evolved, this happens less frequently--but it hasn't stopped me from keeping one eye proverbially open on any given day, wondering when all the family harmony would turn on its head.

I've had many friends that I've loved dearly for years, one day stop returning my phone calls claiming life simply got in the way. As though their lives no longer included me--and I suppose they don't. For a variety of reasons--the babies came, a long distance move was made, etc. No matter what it was, it didn't include me anymore.

I recall the first wedding I was ever in--my god, it was hot. I stood under the sun, watching the two of them, and I knew it would last forever. Indeed, I have told her often that if they ever get divorced, I'm just done--hanging up the hat, and no pressure, I add. But please, please...just stay together. She laughs and assures me all is fine, and I believe her.

She hugged me as I got in the car when it was over, told me she loved me--and for a couple of years, things were the same. Now...we talk maybe two or three times a year. I think of the next wedding I was in--a girl (woman, I guess I should say now) I have known since we were very young. Friends in high school, as close as you could be through college...then, well, nothing. She had her babies, and quit calling. I tried, and then eventually stopped trying because after you reach out over and over and find no one reaching back for you, you have to stop.

I'm not trying to beat up only those whose weddings I've been in--only that it's metaphorical in the sense that until that moment, I'm someone there. Someone they want right next to them as they make a major decision in their lives, and I'm always there to hold their hand.

And then, they let go of mine.

It's making me pull away from my friends as I get older, I think. Because I know what's coming, what's just over that next hill.

Over, and over, I am the reliable friend. Ever waiting to catch someone if they fall and some of them do fall often--then, ashes ashes, we all fall down.

But what about when I need someone's shoulder to lie on? Often, I am left alone save for a precious few. If I try, I get empty answers of those who just don't care or understand. I don't want platitudes, and the "it'll all work out's". I need honest answers, real responses about what may be going on in my life.

This really isn't something that has been sparked by a particular incident or person, just something I've been kicking around in my head, as I ride the subway every morning and every night with 20 people pressed up against me--each of us as alone as the person whose arm we're touching.

And it occurs to me that perhaps, I need to be the one doing the leaving.

I need to be the one to let go of the hand, before it lets go of mine. My co-dependent nature does not often allow for this...I care entirely too deeply about other people, and their hurts and pains become my own. But when MY hurts and pains become a mere sidebar, or worse, something they don't bother to learn about, why on earth should I be there waiting for them on the other side?

This has been a disjointed post, and prompted by almost nothing and very nearly everything. I suppose I just miss the people I used to have in my life, the ones who knew every expression on my face. The ones who have since let go of my hand--and it's just time to let go of theirs.

Maybe being here is a fresh start in every sense, and I should sever ties with those who I know will not notice if I were to fade onto the outskirts of their consciousness.

Sometimes I wonder if they would ever even notice I was gone.