So it all started yesterday when I went to the Getty and swear I saw an ex-friend. She dumped me as a friend because I was too much of a flake for her. I really am a flake sometimes. I wish I could be a better friend to people, and now that I'm settled, it is getting better, but for a few years there when I was all over the map I was impossible to have as a friend, and this friend got the worst of it. Cancelled trips, just not showing up for stuff, changing my number and forgetting to tell her - you name it. And she put up with it for about four years, and finally got sick of it and wrote me off. That was in 2005, and for the first couple of years I was busy falling in love with J and getting married and all that stuff. But now I really really miss her. She was totally a kindred spirit, and I don't think I'll ever have a friend like her again. Which is really sad. But it's totally my fault, and that's the lesson I need to learn, I guess. I will have other friends, and maybe even other best friends, but I won't have another friend like her, and that breaks my heart.
So yesterday I swear I saw her. Actually, I heard her first, talking on the phone. I looked over, and I swear it was her. I totally had a freakout for a second and ran away, but then looked back, feeling brave enough to talk to her, and she was gone. So I sent her a text. Then, after looking at art, I drove home, and the entire way I was thinking about some of my favorite times with her (we both lived in London at the same time, though we're both American, and I have so many happy memories of clubbing in Soho, and walking through Regents park, just shooting the sh*t and talking about our dreams) and then I got really sad. So what did I do? Made a video with my cell phone, which I emailed to her. But I guess the sound didn't come through, so she emails back wondering who I am and what I'm doing. So then I felt stupid. So then I emailed her a general gist of what I was trying to say, and I haven't heard back from her. I feel like a teenager trying to ask a boy out on a date. It's pathetic. I just can't get it through my head that she shouldn't be able to forgive me and give me another chance. But really, my nine lives were up somewhere around 2003, and she still gave me chances for two years after that.
I guess I'm just getting to an age where I'm valuing my friendships more, and sad to see one that was so special to me go away.
I don't know whether she might google me and read this, so if she has, S, I'm sorry for being a stalker. I suck like that. And I'm sorry for being such a lame friend. And I'm just sorry in general.
Other than being pathetic, my weekend is going well. The neighbors who own the house next to us, which they use as a second getaway home and only come up about once every two months, are up having a bachelor party for the son of the guy who owns it. 10 boys all weekend. J is hanging out with them, fishing and going out tonight to the local watering hole, which I think is fun for him since he never had a bachelor party (he didn't want one). Me, I'm just doing chores, cleaning a little, watching Wimbledon, and generally putzing around.