When I was in high school, I met a girl my junior year and I thought she was a whack. Especially since the first thing I remember her telling me was about how her parents were making her go to therapy for some reason I can’t remember. I thought that was an odd conversation starter. We spoke in between classes every now and then but never hung out. My senior year we ended up in a few classes together and we started talking about applying for college. She was one of the rare people in Louisiana who also shared a desire for moving out of the state, far far away. We struck a common chord and started hanging out and having great conversations that kept me motivated and got me through some tough times. We met up at Barnes & Noble on Saturdays and pored through books on colleges and magazines and continued to have really good conversation. She moved away shortly after graduation and I remember being upset mostly at the loss of having someone to talk to that really grasped how I was feeling and had positive feedback that could help me cope.
When the following fall came about and I moved to New York, we picked up conversing mainly through instant messaging. But the conversations lacked the depth they once had. She was experiencing depression and, not being able to see any expression, I kept misinterpreting e-mails and conversations via im. It led to a disastrous falling out where she was reaching out for help with depression through e-mails and I kept missing the mark, thinking she was making a personal attack against the way I was choosing to live my life without any sort of awareness. We cut contact.
We’ve tried since then to get back in touch. But nearly 5 years had passed and catching up on who we had become as adults, as well as trying to resolve what had pushed us apart, pushed me to give up entirely on that friendship. I didn’t want to examine what had happened and try to justify the choices I had made 5 years earlier – it was too draining. That may not have been the best or most mature way to go about it, but after so much time had passed I didn’t understand why she was still holding so much resentment over it.
I would love to go back to having those conversations that kept me so inspired, or even just be able to check in and see where life has brought her, but when so many miscommunications led to what happened, it’s almost impossible to reconcile the events of the past. Maybe I’m wrong on that, but it seems more worthwhile to just start again from where we are now and not where we were then. And maybe it’s better to give up on some things entirely.