Dear friend…

We’ve known each other a long time now, and had our ups and downs, but we’ve been there for each other through thick and thin – every cliché of friendship, we’ve been there and done it.

Which is why, now things seem to be going so well for you, it seems strange that you’ve decided that I’m no longer worth the trouble. In fact, things are going much better for me too, so it seems silly to end it now, when we’ve helped each other through so much worse.

In fact, I feel the need to ask, is it you, and not me? Is there something that you’re just not telling me, that I’m supposed to have worked out? Are you sad about something else? And if so, can I help? Because I have to say I’m at a loss. You won’t talk to me.

I know you are busy, although how I know it is gleaned from one word answers and trans-global passive aggression. We’re all busy in different ways. I never thought one type of busy-ness had a moral superiority over another, or another level of importance. But that’s how you are making made me feel.

Perhaps I have some ideas you don’t agree with, but surely that’s not a reason to call it quits after all these years. Perhaps if you listened to what I have to say, you might understand the reasons I’m saying these things, even if it unsettles your own ideas, or you won’t comprehend where I’m coming from. After all, incomprehension is a form of power. We can all be understanding if we try hard enough. Perhaps you feel that’s where I’ve failed, but I don’t see it. You’ve done things I disagree with in the past, but that’s not to say I’ve not tried to understand your reasons.

In fact, perhaps it should be me who’s angry. Perhaps you’ve picked up on this. In the past I’ve felt you haven’t listened to me. It’s easy to turn away from those who you feel you’ve wronged, and blame them instead.  Perhaps that’s how you’re feeling now, but it’s hard to apportion blame – or say you’re sorry – when you’re met with a brick wall of silence.

And that’s what I find so upsetting. You know a lot about me, my vulnerabilities, my past traumas. You know that rejection is a big thing for me, so it feels cruel that you would reject me out of hand without even a conversation, though I know at least I’ve tried. If you think I need to try harder, then it would help if you’d tell me how.

So this is it, my last ditch attempt. I know better than to grovel, but I feel pretty injured, and since I’m beginning to give up hope of a reconciliation, I want you to know I am hurting, just in case you still care.

And if there is something I have done to upset you, I’m sorry regardless, otherwise I wouldn’t bother trying to make it up. But if I knew what it was you think I should apologise for, it would be much easier to feel less aggrieved myself.

 In some ways, knowing how much you will hate this, this public declaration of feeling and pain – for all it’s borne out of frustration – perhaps I’m already exacting some form of revenge, after all. But then, if you’re reading this at all, perhaps there’s hope after all. 

Yours, as ever, an old friend.