Once upon a time, I had a friend. I met them in an online game, which is no longer as odd was it was when this occurred. Over years, we became long distance friends; then, when I was broken down on the side of the highway halfway from hell to home, they were a rescue and succor for a time. I gradually pulled myself back to my feet and the friendship continued and deepened. Until the day when, suddenly, and for reasons I still do not understand, it ended.
From roughly 2001 to 2022, ours was a friendship by game, by email, by phone, by occasional visit, when they were returning from some far-flung corner of the world and my home city happened to be the layover point. Dinners and movies, and nights spent with Merlot and musings were common. We leaned on one another through all manner of incidents and accidents (hints and allegations, as the song goes). As someone with rare, few friends in this life, this one was, I thought, a friendship made of diamond.
They eventually married and I figured things would distance a bit. New marriage and work and co-mingling social circles always means a bit more distance between talks. It didn’t matter here, for me; our friendship was one that could take years apart and then, pick up again as if no time has passed at all. It was ‘all good’ in a way very few things in my life ever were and I was ok with any permutation.
But as my life darkened and their’s lightened, it seemed that I was the only one. Conversations that used to nourish became stilted and it was always apparent that the new marriage partner did not care for our closeness. I may have misunderstood this; it may well be that once my friend had closer, stronger ties in proximity, they didn’t need this one as much. Hard to say and it looks as if I will never, truly know.
What I do know is that we were having a jovial conversation on a particular night and they said something about ‘owing’ and I said, “You don’t owe me a thing”, and suddenly, cuttingly and angrily in my ear, “YOU’RE DAMN STRAIGHT I DON’T!”
Confused, I reiterated, “That’s what I just said. You’ve never owed me a thing.”
They made an excuse to end the call and we hung up.
I have not heard from them since. No response to email, direct to voicemail on the two calls I made in the weeks thereafter.
And just like that, a friendship of decades seemingly was ended.
I still don’t know why. All I can say I know in this moment is that it is.
I miss my friend. I miss the feeling of being understood, which clearly was not as firm a case as I thought all those years.
Recently, I wrote a short email checking in and sending well wishes. It’s hard for me to give up on things that give me delight. But I don’t expect a reply. I hope for one, though.
Still, as I said on that call, and ever since, “You don’t owe me a thing.”