Happy Birthday, Dad

I have a feeling that I am going to have lots of little reminders sneak up on me as to just how badly I have already ruined Alistair’s life. My favorite was this weekend, when I was trying to choose a card for my Dad’s upcoming birthday. There were all the usual, ‘You’re the best dad in the whole world!’ (untrue), ‘You taught me everything I know!’ (also largely untrue), and ‘You always did what you thought was best, and though I am still bitter I can at least respect that you always told me you loved me’ (totally true, but they don’t make this card. Yet.). Anyhow, as I was saying, my favorite was (and this is word-for-word), ‘Psychologists say that the role a father plays is the most important factor in a child’s life’. Isn’t that awesome?! I dropped it like it burned me. Hallmark hates single mothers. And the gays, so I’ve been told.

Speaking of the gays, something so terrible that I haven’t been able to write about it happened last week. Quiet is going through something, something big, and part of that something is a) Making up with Loud (which I think, in part, is a good thing, because he needs to get through everything and I know it’s been horrible living here with him broken up), and b) Not being friends with me anymore. It’s that last one that I can’t figure out. I can understand that he still loves Loud and wants to be with him at any price (because, even though it might not be ideal, and I might not think it’s the best thing for him, the heart wants what it wants and I would never judge or be critical of that), but I haven’t really been given an explanation as to why our friendship is over other than that I have been manipulative somehow. I have given him the space he asked for, but still he won’t talk to me. I spent the weekend waiting for a tap on my door, hoping that he would finally tell me what he has decided (the last time we spoke he said he wasn’t sure about maintaining the friendship, and I am ever hopeful, even in the face of overwhelming odds). Was our friendship really worth so little to him that the cruelty is intentional, or is he just dealing with so much that he doesn’t see me, waiting here still, pride gone, hoping beyond hope that a friendship I value enormously, a friend I love dearly, hasn’t been taken from me in addition to everything else I’ve lost lately.

I think of my friend Jackie, I guess 10 years ago now, coming to me after I shattered her trust horribly, saying to me ‘The worst thing about all of this is, I am sick with heartache and you’re the one who did this to me – but you’re the only person I want to talk to about it’.
Yep, karma is a dirty bitch.

I just wish he’d talk to me.