Over the past two months I’ve been reeling from the striking amount of removals from my life: my job, my SO, two friends from suicide, the loss of a place to live (I have to move out in July) and my best friend that I just moved halfway across the country. The loss of my job I’m still recovering from, and now with my best male friend having moved to WA, that’s a new wound that I have to address. This is likely the one that’s hurting me the most. My job, I was simply angry, anxious… wondering how I was going to feed myself without draining my savings completely. I have a therapist to pay. I have my utilities to pay. But how can I get a place if I have no job? That’s what I should be doing right now is looking for work, but I keep saying that I need a day or two just to get my head back on straight. I just spent my “vacation time” moving my best friend over 2000 miles to some place where he has to start anew as well. We drove across the country, visiting friends, making new ones, and seeing things never seen before. It was definitely an eye opening journey, and I’m still reviewing it in my head to put all the entries in my other blog meant for travel. I should have taken better notes at recording the entire journey, but I was too busy getting lost in my thoughts and the scenery which captivated me for my entire journey. I was too busy scoping out new places, finding gas stations, trying to keep him awake when we were driving at 1am to some places due to our inability to have a sense of time. I didn’t want to be on my computer the whole time. I wanted to savor the last moments that we would have together for some time, even though much of it was spent in silence. I guess both of us just needed to listen to the music and think about our lives. But even then, all that silence, I both regret and enjoy. I wanted more laughter, shared joy like what we had throughout our ten years of friendship together. But then I remembered something someone said about silence, and how sacred that can be between two people. We were comfortable around each other so much that we could sit in silence for not just several minutes, but sometimes an hour or two at a time. How well we got along together. Several people thought that we were a couple. We had to correct multiple people in the nature of our relationship. I asked him why he thought that, and he simply said that it’s the way we play off of each other. We complement each other. We make each other excel and learn together….
If I knew no better, I’d say that would be the nature of a soulmate… if you believe in that sort of thing.
So I guess my whole deal in this is that this heart fracturing departure was a separation of hearts. And this pain that I’m experiencing brings up the serious question: were he and I supposed to end up truly as a couple?
I have to keep telling myself no due to some of our differing ideals. It’s true: we did well together as friends. If nothing else, we were indeed an asexual semi-romantic couple with deep emotional ties to one another but got our sexual needs elsewhere. Also, he wants kids, and I don’t. He has different ambitions than I do. Different goals in life. I have to keep telling myself this so I don’t trick myself into thinking that I may have been in love with him and just never realized it. This is not a rom-com where I end up flying back to WA just to have some gushing testimonial about our romantic feelings for one another and live happily ever after. That’s not how this story — my story — goes. I’m supposed to be a revolutionary of sorts, but where I don’t know. I have to figure that out, and I have to go fight. He’s got his own fights. If we were meant to be together as a romantic, sexual cis hetero couple, it would have happened sometime in the ten years of our friendship. I wouldn’t be thinking about my gender identity. He wouldn’t be up in WA right now trying to figure out how to become a Canadian citizen. I wouldn’t be back in TX trying to figure out how I’m going to fight this system of totalitarianism and autocracy that is the current environment. He’s leaving; I’m staying. It hurts, but this is the way we’ve chosen for ourselves.
It’s almost as though we were in a TV show where people were rooting for us to get together, and this was the last chance. People were biting their nails, wondering how it was going to happen, not if. And then I left him at the airport without the tearful goodbye we both deserved, I quickly said my goodbye and went inside, not needing my eyes to look as though I was in mourning, with people asking questions and noting my sorrowful gaze. No, I left with my sunglasses on, giving a hug and swelling eyes, I left without much consideration. I hate goodbyes, and my inconsiderate method made it apparent. I didn’t want to drag it out: I was already late for check in, and I did not want to delay this another day. But I could hear a crowd booing, hissing, yelling in angry unfulfillment about this inside the audience of my brain. You idiot! I heard.
But what the audience needs to understand is that it would never work. We tried for a very brief period when we first met, but I ended it for both our sakes. We would get more out of each other as friends than lovers. I destroy the people I get romantically involved with. I did not want to destroy him. Even though years later in our friendship, he told me just that. My rejection of the love he first offered me did destroy him. But he rose to be better, he told me. He said that whole experience taught him to love without boundaries or consequence. I can only hope that he takes that lesson and find a woman who will love him more than I ever could. My cold heart could not have given him everything, but my own caged love… that is slowly burning down the iron bars that have kept it for an eternity.
What did he teach me? He taught me to live in the moment, that things will work out. Don’t panic just yet. Trust is the key. Love is also another key. Don’t be afraid to tell the people you love just how much they mean to you. Don’t be shy about that shit. Ever. Don’t be afraid of affection or showing of it thereof. You are loved among your friends, whether you’re depressed or joyful, people love you. I love you, and I’m picky about the people I keep in my close circle of friends. You mean something to people, whether you believe it or not. I’m here for you, no matter what. That’s what family does. We look out for each other.
I’m glad to have you as my best friend, and the man I call my own brother. I can sleep in the same bed as you, and trust you. That means a hell of a lot. I couldn’t even sleep with my SO in the same bed.
Goddamn, I just wish I could have told you more before you left. But then again, I believe my actions will speak much more than my words ever could.
Brother, I wish you well. Go fly with the wings you know you have. I look forward to seeing you in all your glory next time. We may be going on different paths now, but this is not the end. I love you, and let whatever little love I have, let that be the wind that shoots you upwards to become the person I know you’re meant to become. I’ll look forward instead of behind me. I’ll keep going with the reckless abandon I always loved and knew you for. With honor, I wish you well. Go live life the way you’ve always wanted.