This is my new life.
preface to the new life: this is a somewhat sad and overly dramatic post. It is also poorly written (with no remorse)
Yesterday I was listening to This American Life, sitting alone in a camper at my boyfriend's parent's house in Virginia, and feeling lonely and bored. I clicked on the episode called Frenemies, believing that maybe Ira Glass, if no one else, could provide some insight into my life right now. I believe it was the phrase: "this is my new life. You're not in it, are you?" That really put words to what I was feeling. This summer I was invited to four weddings and went to three. During and after the weddings I had an overwhelming feeling of sadness and realized it was because I haven't been a very good friend. I don't call all the time, I don't always answer, even when I know who is calling. I don't always return calls, and I don't always lay it all out on the table. I didn't go out of my way to help plan those weddings. I didn't send links for wedding ideas; I didn't help make tissue paper flowers or cards. And, for good reason, I suppose, I was not invited to bridal showers or bachelorette parties.
So, on this cross country trip, I was determined to say hello, check in, stay with and play with some friends; friends from high school, friends from undergrad, friends from the in-between and some from grad school.
Stop #1 was in Portland to visit 1) a new bride and groom again without the chaos of the wedding, 2) a good friend from Santa Rosa days and 3) a best friend from grad school. On my birthday, a few days before we headed north, I got a voicemail from #3: happy birthday, too bad I'll be in Buenos Aires when you're in Portland! I tried calling back. Then I called again. And again. No answer. I got tired of talking to her voicemail. Andrew and I did, however, manage a few moments with #1 and #2: although we were penciled in between voluntary and involuntary work and soccer games and bed times.
Stop #2 to visit a friend I had recently been reunited with at #1's wedding. A friend I hadn't talked to in nearly 3 years. I called when we arrived in Missoula. No answer. I left a message. I missed his call back around 10pm saying: parents are in town, and I would be too busy even if they weren't. I don't know of any places to camp around here, try the burger shack on 1st street for food.
Stop #3 was with a good friend from high school that has been living in South Dakota for about 7 years (with a break for a year or so back to Oregon). Success! We toured the vet clinic where she works, and snuggled with her bloodhound Max. I left wondering whether it would be another 7 years before I saw her again. I hoped not.
Stop #4: Iowa. Iowa told me that #3 was six months pregnant and engaged. She hadn't so much as slipped up in our two conversations over the past 6 months, let alone try to tell me. Iowa insisted that she's been busy. Busy for 6 months?! I thought. Iowa called #3 while I was gone. #3 "felt rotten" for not telling me, and agreed to share her secret baby blog with me. Still, there was no call, no email, and no response to my IM requests.
Stop # 5,6,7 Andrew's friends. Call after call after call. No calls returned. We haven't heard from or seen any of them.
Needless to say, I've been feeling a bit abandoned. Devastated, maybe, by the fact that I haven't in any slight way, been included in many of the biggest moments of my friends' lives. And though I've thought long and hard about how I've not always been the best friend, not always returned calls, not always been there to help plan weddings, I feel I've been completely forgotten. I feel like the person on the wedding invite list that is only there out of obligation.
But I suppose we are all caught up in what's in front of us, and why shouldn't we be? Babies need planning, houses need maintenance, we need time to spend with partners and spouses and friends, and we all have to go to work.
Unfortunately, my stubborn side says (most notably with respect to #3) why bother calling until she decides she wants to include me in her life again? Why make the effort if she isn't going to? It's her turn. And I then think I can just let it go, just forget that we were friends, or write it off as something of the past. But I can't let it go, so the empathetic side of me says: get over it and call, be excited for her, she needs all the support she can get. And so it goes, over and over in my head, making me sad.
Yesterday I was listening to This American Life, sitting alone in a camper at my boyfriend's parent's house in Virginia, and feeling lonely and bored. I clicked on the episode called Frenemies, believing that maybe Ira Glass, if no one else, could provide some insight into my life right now. I believe it was the phrase: "this is my new life. You're not in it, are you?" That really put words to what I was feeling. This summer I was invited to four weddings and went to three. During and after the weddings I had an overwhelming feeling of sadness and realized it was because I haven't been a very good friend. I don't call all the time, I don't always answer, even when I know who is calling. I don't always return calls, and I don't always lay it all out on the table. I didn't go out of my way to help plan those weddings. I didn't send links for wedding ideas; I didn't help make tissue paper flowers or cards. And, for good reason, I suppose, I was not invited to bridal showers or bachelorette parties.
So, on this cross country trip, I was determined to say hello, check in, stay with and play with some friends; friends from high school, friends from undergrad, friends from the in-between and some from grad school.
Stop #1 was in Portland to visit 1) a new bride and groom again without the chaos of the wedding, 2) a good friend from Santa Rosa days and 3) a best friend from grad school. On my birthday, a few days before we headed north, I got a voicemail from #3: happy birthday, too bad I'll be in Buenos Aires when you're in Portland! I tried calling back. Then I called again. And again. No answer. I got tired of talking to her voicemail. Andrew and I did, however, manage a few moments with #1 and #2: although we were penciled in between voluntary and involuntary work and soccer games and bed times.
Stop #2 to visit a friend I had recently been reunited with at #1's wedding. A friend I hadn't talked to in nearly 3 years. I called when we arrived in Missoula. No answer. I left a message. I missed his call back around 10pm saying: parents are in town, and I would be too busy even if they weren't. I don't know of any places to camp around here, try the burger shack on 1st street for food.
Stop #3 was with a good friend from high school that has been living in South Dakota for about 7 years (with a break for a year or so back to Oregon). Success! We toured the vet clinic where she works, and snuggled with her bloodhound Max. I left wondering whether it would be another 7 years before I saw her again. I hoped not.
Stop #4: Iowa. Iowa told me that #3 was six months pregnant and engaged. She hadn't so much as slipped up in our two conversations over the past 6 months, let alone try to tell me. Iowa insisted that she's been busy. Busy for 6 months?! I thought. Iowa called #3 while I was gone. #3 "felt rotten" for not telling me, and agreed to share her secret baby blog with me. Still, there was no call, no email, and no response to my IM requests.
Stop # 5,6,7 Andrew's friends. Call after call after call. No calls returned. We haven't heard from or seen any of them.
Needless to say, I've been feeling a bit abandoned. Devastated, maybe, by the fact that I haven't in any slight way, been included in many of the biggest moments of my friends' lives. And though I've thought long and hard about how I've not always been the best friend, not always returned calls, not always been there to help plan weddings, I feel I've been completely forgotten. I feel like the person on the wedding invite list that is only there out of obligation.
But I suppose we are all caught up in what's in front of us, and why shouldn't we be? Babies need planning, houses need maintenance, we need time to spend with partners and spouses and friends, and we all have to go to work.
Unfortunately, my stubborn side says (most notably with respect to #3) why bother calling until she decides she wants to include me in her life again? Why make the effort if she isn't going to? It's her turn. And I then think I can just let it go, just forget that we were friends, or write it off as something of the past. But I can't let it go, so the empathetic side of me says: get over it and call, be excited for her, she needs all the support she can get. And so it goes, over and over in my head, making me sad.
posted by humble bee at 2:10 PM
3 Comments:
With respect to #3, you should call her. I suppose #3 is H. P. in which case it is a very old friendship with a certain perspective as you share some interests.
Obviously you cannot expect your childhood friendships to be preserved forever without investing some time and effort into them. Don't be too stubborn!
Good Luck and Kind regards!
M. from Yurp
Yep, it reads like I thought it reads. As long as the real #3 doesn't read it, then I think you're okay....and more confusion will be avoided. :)
Love and hugs to you, my dear...it was really so wonderful to hang out last night....
thanks mise. and to anon: not H.P. H.P. is not pregnant and not engaged. no rumors, please, if you know H.P.
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