An unexpected eulogy

A friend broke up with me over text, which I suppose makes me 0 for 2.  And the typical borderline reaction was there, of course, as I sat burning in the sun and shame. Were I alone, maybe it would have grown, but instead, through the quiet broke the chirping voice of a coworker...

...Asking me about said friend, our mutual ex-colleague.

I paused. "That text was from her. Ex-colleague is happy and doing well."  I paused another long moment, observing my feelings. And then, in the closest to Emotional Ground Zero that I have ever been, I told my coworker the truth:  "She said she doesn't want to see me anymore." Something about the relationship being one of circumstance. And something more about how, on reflection, the intensity of it did her harm.

We both sat there in silence.

It was a hard day, even without this news. And it's easy to lose myself in the mess of emotions and memories that surface with this powerful trigger of rejection and loss. But I held onto the complexity of it, the pain and the longing. I still care about my friend. I believe her when she wishes me well. And I agree that our friendship was intense. I understand the desire to move on, and I respect her for establishing a boundary.

As usual, I am grateful for another precious opportunity to learn. For example, I now know how wishing someone well for the future means little when it follows a criticism of the past. A part of me (looking and sounding a lot like Psychotherapist Number 2, actually) did not hesitate to observe that a little appreciation would have made the loss a lot easier to bear. Will I remember, in the future, if I were ever in the same position?

I don't chase after the thoughts. I let the feelings sit.

I expect to feel sad for a while. But they don't consume me. I still feel other feelings. And soon enough, the feeling of rejection will fade. In less than a day, in fact, I have the perspective that I didn't experience this loss alone. My colleague was there. I shared it with her.

These details are easily missed; I suppose we take for granted the idea of shared experiences... that there will always be someone ready, available, and listening. I know that I am not as alone as I feel, and that a large proportion of that feeling (and that status) is down to me, living protectively in my own world, unable to see the presence and availability of others.

More and more, I abandon the glasses that got me this far. If I'm overwhelmed by an emotion, sometimes the answer is to start paying attention to a different emotion. In this case, gratitude.

I'm grateful to my friend. I wouldn't be where I was today without knowing her. I would have liked to continue to learn and grow, knowing her. I feel sad that I might have, in some way, contributed to her ill health. But mostly I accept that we both did, and continue to do, the best that we could and can. And I feel proud of that.

I feel proud of us both. And a bit sad to be sitting alone with this feeling, because it's a good one. So  join me. If you like!