07 June 2006

May 9

Today is my best friends birthday. I’ve written the day a few times today with a sigh.
You see, this is the friend that was (yes, was - see "What do to about a Problem Like Maria)
in jail. Now she’s home with her family, like nothing has ever happened. Well, with the exception of her husband in prison and now has an 18-month hole in her resume.

I’ve not spoken to her since her initial calls from jail. I just can’t conceive of having a friendship with her. She’s crossed the line, not only because of the crimes she’s committed, but also because of the person she WAS.

I get it now. In high school, nothing is ever as it seems. At that age, you *think* you know everything. In fact, you’re certain of it. It’s just so OBVIOUS. Parents and teachers are stupid, they’ve never experienced what you’ve experienced.

With time comes wisdom usually and one learns important lessons in hindsight.

This was one of those friendships that had lasted the bonds of time. It crossed continents, marriages, children, and crises. Time would pass, but the bond remained the same.
Then in a zippy twist tantamount to a Mary Higgins Clark novel, all is NOT at ALL what it seemed…or ever was.

This friend is addicted to unhealthy relationships. I can see the pattern now.
This friend had many separate lives; depending on which person she was interacting with.
This friend has serious flaws in her psyche that make the line of morality blurry. This revelation is not only drawn from the two court files worth of charges and evidence. It is also drawn from the wisdom of hindsight.

I would like to rend my clothing and declare her dead to me. I would like to banish every remnant of her from my life. But I can’t. This person, as unhealthy as she is and was,
is part of my fabric. She is part of me, and how I became me. To deny her completely is to change who I am.

I just hope that I can and will continue to make better choices despite this absence. I hope that someday I can forgive. I can recognize that she is not her actions and hope that she can make better choices.

In the meantime, I will sigh as this day passes each year. The person I knew is dead. It's not a reason for celebration anymore.

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