idisagreecompletely

She called me last week. I saw the unfamiliar number ring on my cell phone and almost didn’t answer it. I don’t like to do that, but I suddenly recognized the area code was the same as her previous call to me. Don’t ask me why I can remember that from a few months ago and yet can’t often remember why I just got up and walked into another room.

If you don’t know who I am talking about, go read this post and then come back here.https://idisagreecompletely.com/2012/07/20/today-her-name-is-chanteel-tomorrow-who-knows-what-it-will-be/

As soon as I answered it, I heard her familiar voice.

“I love what you wrote about me,” was all she said.

My heart suddenly stopped and for a moment I felt as if I had just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar by my Mom. I knew I would never write something that would betray someone or hurt them, but having the subject of your writing tell you that is, at best, an odd sensation.

“You did? Really? You read my blog?” I asked and held my breath.

“Yes and I love it. I knew you were talking about me and I wanted to thank you for the story.”

I felt a huge smile cross my face. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I was camped out on my couch, getting caught-up on last season of “House” on Netflix. Drinking iced tea and trying not to think about Monday morning. I am very good at putting things out of my mind.

“I’m so glad you liked it and I almost didn’t write it. I didn’t want to say anything…”

“You have given my life meaning with your writing,” was all she said.

I did not expect this comment. “I have?” was all I could think to ask.

“You have. I’ve been following your blog since the beginning. I remember some of the people you’ve written about and thank you for showing people we are human too.”

I couldn’t help it; I started crying. Right then and there, I was sniffling and wiping my eyes, thankful I wasn’t wearing any make-up. Make-up on a Sunday just seems sinful to me.

“Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

I shook my head, as if she could see that. “No! No, you didn’t say anything wrong at all. Your words have touched me more than I can say…”

“Susan, what’s wrong? Why are you sad today?” she asked. She was right. I had been sad for a few days but hadn’t said a word to anyone. Suddenly, she was the person I needed to talk to. This beautiful and messed up soul who comes into my life once in a while, touches down and then flies away until the next time.

I took a deep breath and decided to talk. Just talk. “I have, or had, a friend but I’m not sure if we’re friends anymore,” I said and the words just jumbled out of my mouth. No thought to them, no attempt to make sense or to try to even understand what I was saying.

“We were really good friends for a long time. Talked everyday and shared so much. Now the last few weeks, he no longer has time for me. I’ve tried to say hello a few times, I’ve sent a few text messages but I never get a response anymore. If I contact him, I have a 50/50 shot he’ll reply. I don’t know what I said or did, but I’ve had to accept the fact that I am no longer important and I guess it just hurts so much.”

There. I said it. I opened my soul a bit. “So, I am going to respect his unspoken wishes, even though I don’t understand, and try not to be hurt and bitter, and leave him alone. I don’t stay where I am not wanted, but right now, I am hurt and there’s not much I can do about it,” I said. I actually felt better having finally faced the fact that I was very hurt and I was grieving and didn’t know why I had lost such a dear friend.

“He’s an idiot,” was all she said. This made me laugh with the way she said it and the absolute certainty she had. Once I started laughing, she did too. I ended up talking to her for a long time and all she did was listen.

Suddenly the teacher became the student. She spoke to me quietly and in the only way she could, got me to see that I had done nothing wrong and that it was natural to grieve and I would until I was done with it.

I passed onto her the well wishes I had received from my readers and this made her giggle. I told her I was proud of her – she was steadily employed, drug free and fighting her demons every day and today she was winning. Tomorrow was too far away to worry about.

She had to run, but before she hung-up she said “I love you Susan and I love that I can call you anytime, and you’re always there. If this so-called ‘friend’ of yours doesn’t know your true beauty and strength and value, then it’s OK. I know you love unconditionally and always will. I do too and that’s why I can see it in others. We are rare, crazy and we hurt all the time, don’t we?”

“Yes,” was all I could manage to say and she was gone.

She will be back and I will be here and we shall carry on our conversation. After she hung-up, I felt the sadness leave and knew that there was a person out there who cared about me and had replaced the one that no longer did.

Nothing like trading up, eh?