January 28
If you've been reading me for a while, I suppose you know that I've never met my father. It may say something about my personality--who and more specifically how I am--that it's never even occurred to me to look for him. I'll go for long periods of time without even remembering that I grew up without a father, and when someone asks me about it, which happened this weekend, I'm always a little bit surprised at my lack of any strong opinion about the whole subject, because as I'm sure you've all been able to determine, I'm pretty opinionated about most everything. I'm always startled in an "Oh, yeah. I guess I DO have a father" kind of way. When I was a kid, I was teased--but not really for that. If you're a teaser, what joy is there in getting a "You're right, I don't!" answer? It was just never a matter of importance. My mom was (was? heh!) more than enough for me, and I was (Was? Heh.)very close to my Grandparents.
I bring the father thing up not because I'm having some epiphany and suddenly realize that I need to have some closure with that part of my life. Something that's never been open need never be closed. I mean, certainly I've felt as though if he wanted to meet me he could have, and still can. I'm here. Hi. I think I bring this up because it reminds me that I'm very much the type of person who is often able to end things and just walk away, never once looking back. I grew up having a best friend. We met in nursery school. We re-met in the 7th grade, and were inseperable from that point on until I was about 25. We did some kind of shitty things to one another, she'd definitely blame me, and whereas I accept some of the shitty stuff I did, I'd never let her claim innocence, which she would. (Note: she'd be totally wrong, too.)
When I got engaged, she was very strange and tightlipped about it, not really acting happy for me. My mother snorted when I told her how the friend was behaving and said "She's exactly the kind of person who'd show up at someone else's wedding in a black micro miniskirt and a sheer shirt." I didn't think it was jealousy so much as it was...I don't know what. Maybe she couldn't stand people not paying attention to her? Maybe she thought that I was getting away with something (this all sounds very cryptic, and really, it's not. Our fight isn't the story at all) and she couldn't accept it. She told other friends a few weird lies about me, which ticked me off, and when I finally moved up to Connecticut, we exchanged a few terse emails, the most important one being the one wherein I apologized for being shitty to her. Days passed. She wrote me back something like "Well, I don't know if I can forgive you, and I don't know if I'll come to your wedding." That was it. I was done. I waited a week or so, and said "Don't bother. You aren't invited" and that was it. An entire life of this friendship was finished for me. Certainly, the whole thing sounds extreme, but when I left New York I left almost all my friends there. I burned every bridge and kicked closed every door and never thought twice about doing it.
Is that weird? I'm a very firm believer in not letting shit drag on and on when it doesn't need to. I had a friend. We were tight for years, things got bad. It just wasn't worth hanging on, and then it was done. I have no idea whether or not she thinks about me anymore, though I'd be willing to bet she does. I never understand why people fight for friendships that are onesided or unfulfilling or why they'd ever even try and maintain a friendship with people they've nothing in common with, or when they know that the friend has talked shit about them behind their back. (How's THAT for overusing the word "they"?) It just isn't even worth the effort to me.
Thinking about friends made me understand that that may be the one area in my life I am totally black and white about. Either be my friend forever, be up front with me about problems and concerns, be there for me when I have a problem and I'll do the same for you, or go the fuck away, FOREVER. Passive agressive friendship isn't friendship at all. It really isn't. Just like my father was never a father to me, so why would I bother? What thing would I possibly say to him after 32 years? He didn't leave my mother, the court ordered him to stay away. What question would I be able come up with? "What's up?" seems woefully inadequate, and yet, it's not even a question I'd care enough to stick around to hear the answer to.