i want to get out of this
The more time passes I feel like I’ve made the right decision. Its one of those decisions that has been a long time coming, but I really think it has been the right one all along. The Brahms weekend was the best and the worst, all wrapped up into one long moment. Great and amazing things happened, but some horrible and very bad things happened as well. Beautiful music, time spent with friends, finally feeling like I belonged somewhere – but saying goodbye to people I didn’t think I’d actually ever miss, death, heartache. Sorrow in the rejoicing. My dad took the death of that man so very hard, but its complicated as to why exactly. The shortest version is that the death of this man, and the surrounding circumstances were very similar to how his own father died. And that made things incredibly hard on him. In turn, it was hard for me to watch my father go through it again. It made me relive my grandfather’s own passing.
Manny had called on Friday night, late after the dress was over. He had just gotten back from Texas and was so happy and excited to share his good times. I didn’t mind. It was a moment of happiness in a somewhat dreary day. He was so full of joy, it was hard not to get caught up in it. Which is what I needed. But I also needed to tell him what had happened. I let him talk for a while and then tried to talk. As usual, he steered the conversation back to his happiness and excitement. After a few tries, I just gave up and let him ramble himself to sleep. He didn’t fall asleep on the phone, but it was close. I was angry when we hung up because I needed to talk to him, and he was too tired. I was annoyed that he had commandeered a whole forty-five minute conversation and then hung up on me. At the same time, I knew that was just how he was sometimes. So caught up in his own excitement and ego he can’t stop and listen. I was tired too, and by the next morning I didn’t even remember being mad at him.
My weekend continued. Saturday was difficult and wonderful. The orchestra conductor had the graduating seniors stand up in front of the orchestra and gave them a very nice send-off. He spoke of each one individually and gave them each a Bible verse or two that in his mind summed up who they were. It was lovely, and there were definitely a few tears. Then other orchestra members added their favorite memories of the departing graduates. It was an informal ceremony I never got in high school or college, for various reasons. But it was something wonderful, wonderful and sad all at the same time. After the concert, I ended up going out for coffee with a few of the students. We had such a great time, and I didn’t regret going, even though I was beyond exhausted the next day. Sunday was the farewell service to the former choir director and his family. They are precious, wonderful people and I will miss them more than I realized beforehand. It was a hard service for me to get through coupled with everything else that was going on. But after the morning service was done, I still had two more services to get through and practicing to accomplish. I had cried enough and was starting to get annoyed at how much I had been crying. I was just tired of the tears.
So I posted something to my Facebook about how I needed to be done crying for the day. It was for all the people at church here who said good-bye to dear friends. It was for my father, who was spending his birthday weekend planning a funeral. It was for the people at my old church who were watching a dear woman mourn her husband. It was for all the college students and Brahms participants. I needed to be done crying. Not long after that post went up, Manny sent me a text, asking if everything was okay since our conversation was cut short on Friday.
When I got the text, I didn’t know what he was talking about initially. It had all gone down what felt like a lifetime earlier. But then I recalled my annoyance at his abrupt ending of our conversation. At first I was going to ignore him, but that didn’t feel right. He and I are supposed to be past that. I thought about telling him that everything was fine, he was reading too much into it. Then I decided to be honest, and tell him that I was upset with him on Friday night, but that is just how he is. I wasn’t mad anymore, and I couldn’t really talk then anyways because I had a busy day.
I didn’t really expect an apology. That’s not his style. I expected a justification or reasoning, very logical and Manny-centric. I wasn’t going to let it bother me, because that is really just how he is sometimes. Not all the times, but sometimes. The response I got back was from left field. He was mad that I had gotten mad (even though I wasn’t anymore). He didn’t think I had any right or reason to be upset. He claims (as he constantly does) that he knew something was bothering me, but since I didn’t blurt it out he didn’t push. He wasn’t going to force me to talk about something I didn’t want to, and he was so tired on Friday. I was so angry I threw my phone across the church. I already had told him I couldn’t get into what was bothering me or why exactly he upset me on Friday. Still, I was pissed because I had tried to talk to him. It was one of those times when I wasn’t being coy or secretive. I was being patient and letting him share his joy with me, waiting for my "turn" to express what was going on. I didn’t want to rain on his parade and I was genuinely happy that he was so happy.
http-equiv=”Content-Type” content=”text/html;charset=UTF-8″>By the time I ranted to the empty sanctuary and calmed down a bit, I decided I wasn’t going to engage with him. I repeated that I couldn’t talk because I was busy and because my knee-jerk reaction was to tell reply "Screw you." (I actually wanted to tell him to eff off, but I’m trying to make a concerted effort to curse less.) I don’t remember now if he actually replied or not to that, but I couldn’t really focus on that. I had things that needed to be done. I was so exhausted I couldn’t waste the effort and energy on being mad at him. Yet of course, I was still mad at him.
Sunday evening brought me to the last evening service at the college, which ended with a hymn where the students join hands and lift them as they sing a blessing to each other. I sat on stage next to people I now actually considered friends and sang my heart out. It was exactly what I needed. On the drive home, I was thinking about how I was tired of it all with Manny. We haven’t fought in years. YEARS. But suddenly it was all rushing back to me, and I was just tired of it. We went from planning a trip to San Francisco together, to my barely wanting to speak to him. I wasn’t even interested in trying to work things out with him.
And that seemed to be a breaking point for me. I got a little drunk on Friday night hanging out with David and Sarah. Sarah and I went for ice cream, and I kinda wanted to talk about what had happened with Manny. I needed an objective view. But Sarah did somewhat the same thing that Manny had done. I don’t know if she meant to do it, and I’m certainly not mad at her about it. I was also maybe more than a little drunk. So talking rather than listening to me ramble might have been her plan of attack, which was fine. But there was a bit of deja vu going on for me. Every time I tried to steer the conversation towards what I needed to stay, she’d jump on a topic and start off running. I decided that maybe she just needed to talk, so I should just listen and let her get it all out. But she went on for quite some time about her loser boyfriend she had before she met her husband, who is one of those Good Guys. How it was so much easier to leave the loser behind once she’d met a Good Guy. I tried to explain that Manny is a Good Guy. He’s really not the asshole I often complain about. There is a lot more to him, and I know he’s a Good Guy. Which is why making a clean break from him is so difficult. He’s not a loser. It would be so much easier if he was, but he’s just not.
As Sarah rambled on and on about this ex-boyfriend, I thought about Manny and our relationship. And I realized I wasn’t mad at him. But like Sarah and LdH, he doesn’t always know when to really listen. He pushes at the wrong times, and ignores me when I need him to listen. That’s okay. Some people are just not up for that kind of listening. Sarah continued to ramble and I figured out I wouldn’t get a chance to talk to her about my issues with Manny. But just like that Friday night conversation with him, it wasn’t worth fighting over and getting angry. I just let her ramble, just like I finally gave up and let him ramble away.
I didn’t desperately need a friend that night. Not the way I desperately needed Manny the week before. And even so, even though I did need him to be my friend, I didn’t stay mad that he was too busy or pre-occupied or tired. That is just the way he is sometimes. I choose to remain his friend knowing that going in. So when it happens, I just have to deal with it. Or walk away. And after being told that I didn’t have the right to be upset; after being told that he knows me so well when he clearly didn’t; after all that… I don’t think I want to deal with it anymore. I’m just tired of it all. I’m tired of him and me and all this crap.
So when he texted me and told me about his plane tickets to SF (since I had been thinking about going with him) I responded. Yes, drunk and yes very late at night. I told him I was not going to SF with him, and I just wasn’t sure about him and me anymore. That was very late Friday night after David dropped me off from the LAN party. Yesterday, Manny called and texted "We should talk." I haven’t responded and I really have no desire to respond.
There is a part of me that is very sad. It is an incredibly long friendship and relationship that has been through quite a lot. It was something I thought I’d always have. But I just… I can’t anymore. Every time we’ve paused our friendship/relationship has been because I’ve tried to pull away. I’ve always been the one saying we need a break. Perhaps I should have just stuck to my guns. Every other time, I quickly change my mind and re-open the doors of friendship. I’m just really not sure thats going to happen this time around.
I don’t know what he’ll do. I don’t have much intention of calling him or responding to his texts, and I don’t know what he’ll resort to, or if he’ll just leave me alone. The immature girly part of me wants him to chase me. But she’s mostly drowned out by the other voices and desires who just hope he leaves me be for a while.
I’m only pretty sure that I can’t take anymore
Before you take a swing
I wonder what are we fighting for
When I say out loud
I want to get out of this
I wonder is there anything
I’m going to miss
I wonder how it’s going to be
When you don’t know me
How’s it going to be
When you’re sure I’m not there
How’s it going to be
When there’s no one there to talk to
Between you and me
Cause I don’t care
How’s it going to be
How’s it going to be
Where we used to laugh
There’s a shouting match
Sharp as a thumbnail scratch
A silence I can’t ignore
Like the hammock by the door
Where way we spent time in, swings empty
I don’t see lightning like last fall
When it was always about to hit me
I wonder how’s it going to be
When it goes down
How’s it going to be
When you’re not around
How’s it going to be
When you found out there was nothing
Between you and me
Cause I don’t care
How’s it going to be
And how’s it going to be
When you don’t know me anymore
And how’s it going to be
Want to get myself back in again
The soft dive of oblivion
I want to taste the salt of your skin
The soft dive of oblivion, oblivion
How’s it going to be
When you don’t know me anymore
How’s it going to be
How’s it going to be
How’s it going to be
How’s it Going to Be ~ Third Eye Blind</meta