Two Month Hiatus

Okay. So that little tid-bit, the post below, first thing I read this morning. I’m so behind the blog I’m not sure I even know what a blog is. This isn’t really a blog it’s more of a web archive. It’s a historical relic of what a blog used to be. I think I was upset by the whole is “Is Blogging Dead?” thing that I kind of gave it up for a while. I didn’t want to be one of those literary bloggers that don’t blog about anything even remotely literary, or wouldn’t stand the test of time. So maybe I’m not a literary blogger. I’m a blogger who likes books, and occasionally politics, and writing about whatever else catches my fancy. Read it or not. NO pressures, man, no pressures.

I don’t know. I got so caught up in the blogging about something, so I started blogging about nothing. Yep. I’m young easily led astray. I have my excuses. It’s been a long two months. There was the transit strike, no linking required if you lived in New York. The family visiting. Helping a friend’s near-divorce-like experience. The day job promotion. The aforementioned friend’s betrayal (with me being the bad friend sited as the reason, of course. Who knows maybe I am an awful person). Fill the blank parts with ten books or so, another ten movies watched by way of netflix or in the theaters, and you have my past two months. I know. Not so exciting but worth filling in anyway.

It’s a curious thing to lose a friend, especially when the friendship is already waning. It’s coming, and you can feel it coming, but you just sit and watch it happen. I knew things were strained. I knew it had to happen. It still hurt like hell, especially when the person in question doesn’t have the guts to tell you how they feel. They don’t even have the respect to just let things die. Instead they have someone else call you and say you’re a bad friend, or say you’re a bad person, or unsupportive. Despite the number of times you opened your home, gave them a shoulder to cry on, did your best to behave as selflessly as possible, even after they involved you in endless amounts of drama, flaked on you numerous times. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

It’s not the first time I’ve lost a friend. It is the longest time I’ve had a friend, only to find out that we’ve grown at a completely different speed. That they’ve became someone you don’t even recognize anymore, a vision of your former self. A person you’ve forgotten.

She had a new boyfriend. She told me that part of the reason she liked him so much was that he didn’t care if she drank all the time, or that he didn’t care if she did hard drugs at 5pm in the evening, which amazed me. Precisely because she has, she had, no idea what love is, because caring about someone also means caring about their well being, and that doesn’t mean he should have been judging her actions. But someone who loves you would care about you enough about your well being to stop you from being self destructive. It has nothing to do with judging but everything to do with love.

Sadness is realizing that me without you, finally makes sense.