For the past couple of days, an apology has been rolling around in my head, but I haven't been able to let it out because something just hasn't seemed right. I couldn't put my finger on it, but then I realized what it was: what I thought I needed to apologize for is not what feel sorry about. And "sorry" isn't even the right word. "Guilty" is probably closer. Yes, closer. Not exact yet, but closer.
But what I'm guilty of is not what you are thinking, I'd wager. For the first time since I met him, I believed the words of a bully. One of many Insignificant Distractions of late. [see a previous blog post, if you'd like] Anyway, I am embarrassed that I believed what he said about you and your questions. Although, as I recall, you did not deny the questions, just the actions that would/could have followed. And yet, I still could not bring myself to apologize to you for that embarrassing lapse of reason. Why? I kept asking myself.....
And then I realized. I believed it because it sounded just like something you would say, and something you would do. My brain was in overdrive, piecing together many emotions and memories; like an old VCR tape when you could rewind while watching, and see the whole story in reverse.* That's when I saw it: the scenes when all of this happened before.
Do you remember? That first trip I didn't get invited on because you decided to pass judgment on me based on something someone else said. We stood in the creek, and you apologized profusely; saying that you couldn't believe that you had let someone else's words change your mind about inviting me--and my whole family. By then, it was too late for us to go, with my schedule, and everyone else's, except for one of my sons, who went to help you. With my blessing, remember? I looked forward to going the following year.
I didn't go, because my schedule again conflicted; but this year, I scheduled it off--well in advance. There's the rub. The thing I really wanted to talk to you about that day; the thing that really was bothering me. I thought I needed to apologize because I'd lied about why I couldn't go. It was a good lie, too--the really believable kind! Unless you look at the rest of my summer, that is, and what was in my head. I said I couldn't go because I'd be out of reach on my cell phone, and that work needed to be able to get in touch with me. While that's true enough, it's not why I didn't go. Also true is the fact that neither my sunglasses nor my glasses fit well with my bike helmet. Not being able to see well is a pretty good justification for not going. But that was not why I didn't go.
I didn't go because, in all honesty, two of the men on the trip give me the creeps, three of the men on the trip treat some of the kids in a way that I don't like--verbally (and there I go, not being completely honest--my kid and one other kid, who also was not sure about going on the trip, but did.), one of the men on the trip was far more insistent that I go than I felt comfortable with, one of the men was too much of a stranger to be any issue at all, and one of the men was my husband--the only one I really wanted to be on vacation with! (Yes, if you are doing the math, there are more men listed than were there--at least two of the men overlap categories.) Worst of all, I knew that, once again, I would not speak up and tell them to knock it off. Why? For fear of hurting your feelings. Yes, your feelings. I did not go on the trip because I was ashamed that your feelings meant more to me than those of children that I love.
Yet I realized that when I answered the phone, you had already decided that you were angry. You tried to tell me that I made you angry by "accusing" you. I passed on what had been told to me. You told me you were angry that I sounded happy when I answered the phone. Why shouldn't I?
I am happier than I have ever been in my life.
I'm sorry for thinking what we had was a 'friendship.' There's the apology. Over the past few days, I have thought about all the time we spent together, and realized it wasn't what it seemed. I won't go into that. Your anger at me is displaced. I did nothing. I was as surprised as anyone, and as confused. But I have moved on. Forward. I am living again, and rebuilding myself.
The fact that you've passed judgment on me based on something you heard -- twice -- does not make it okay for me to pass judgment based on something I heard. I'm not trying to justify my actions. For a day or two, I mourned the death of a friendship; until I realized it was all in my imagination, anyway.
Two recent pins have made me think of you: "Go ahead. Judge me. Just remember to be perfect the rest of your life." (qsprn.com) and "You become like the 5 people you spend the most time with. Choose carefully." (www.takethelidoff.blogspot.com) Think about that. I wish I'd seen the latter far sooner. I would have spent far less time and energy telling myself that our friendship was separate from your friendship with people who had nothing but unkind things to say about me, despite not having spent any time getting to know me. I won't make the same mistake again. I hope you don't, either.
Goodbye.
*If you are scratching your head about that, it's probably because you've only ever been able to "skip" backwards on a DVD. Your loss. Watching one's favorite shows in reverse once in a while, though bad for the tape, was great fun!
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