A had a friend. We met when we were 18. We’ve been in and out of each other’s lives since 1983….that’s a long time.
We looked alike, went to college, shared clothes, cars, friends, horses, drinks, laughs, hard times, fun times. Now she’s gone.
Not dead, she’s decided not to interact anymore. She’s pulled herself away, and refused to interact with me, except for an occasional “like” on Facebook. I asked her why.
She emailed a response.
“I have searched for an answer. What comes to me is that I am paralyzingly unsettled by intimacy. I believe that is why I have no friends. The moment I meet someone with whom I might connect, everything inside of me pulls away until I am so uncomfortable around her that it’s easy to not be.
For me, you epitomize intimacy. Everything about you calls to me, invites me to open up, expose who I am. I want you to know me…and that wanting terrifies me. And because, in my darkness, knowing me makes you less. So, I have the shallow relationship with you that social media allows. I get to be connected to you without ever having to truly connect.
None of this factors in your feelings or needs. By not doing so I perpetuate my self fulfilling prophesy that I am fundamentally characterless.
I’m sorry and appreciate that you forgive me…because that’s the kind of person You are.”
That’s one of the most grandiose ways I’ve seen to say” F’off. I’m broken and only want to watch you on Facebook, and the last 33 years…just kidding.”
I sure can pick friends. I might have to reevaluate my selection process.