Totenberg, would you please invite the little monster over there–no, over there–no, over THERE–gosh he’s a nebulous one!–to come over here for tea and biscuits? Thank you.
Tea? Cream? Sugar? Biscuit? What’s on your mind, Little Foggy Sadness?
You’re feeling . . . left behind. Abandoned. Okay, I can work with that. Tell me more.
You’re upset because we’ve got that first anniversary of suck coming up. I get that. Tell me more.
And because Mischief is playing the girly game of “If I wait long enough and play hard to get, you’ll forgive me when I finally come back to you.” You’re containing some frustration and feelings of being used, I see. And at the same time, you hate to see the relationship end.
Okay. So lemme ask you this–what do you value about Mischief?
She’s lively and full of fun things to go and do. She’s always got a party in her pockets. She’s always willing to chip in and lend a hand. She’s generous with her time and information. She’s very connected.
Okay. And why do you feel used?
Recently, she only calls to pick my brain–about terminology, about her new relationship with Latest Boy. When we make plans, something always comes up that cuts our time short–family emergencies, out of energy, out of dough. She used to be prompt about getting back to me, and now it feels like she’s ignoring my email and phone call. I refuse to play the girl game of “If I call you enough, you’ll call back to get me off your case.” I also don’t want to spend my life lurking Facebook and my webmail hoping for a response.
The ball is in her court–I left her a message, and called her cell so she knows I tried to contact her. Besides, she was the one who said we’d touch base last night to go over scheduling–and then *poof* nada.
She whines about being perceived as a flake–bitches about how Lynchpin poisons the well of all her relationships so she has to go elsewhere to get out of her sphere of influence–and then, of course, by her own behavior, demonstrates that she’s not trustworthy. That you have to take her “Yes” as a “Maybe.”
All right. I can understand the suckdom of being in limbo. But do you see that it’s her choice to pick the relationship back up–or not; and it’s your choice to let her–or not. It’s been what, ten years? More??? Babyface was a big kid/preteen when we became chummy, and now she’s 20 and will be 21 next summer. That’s a long time for us–you know we’re guy-like in our relationships. We do fun stuff together and bond over shared experiences–camping, dinner, conventions–and when the activity draws to a close or distance intervenes, well, we wave buh-bye and walk on. Xerhino is the ONLY person from our teen years that we’re still in any form of contact with–and that’s pretty limited. We read each other’s blogs, support each other’s art, comment when something moves us–but we don’t swap long essays via e-mail or even chatter on Twitter/Facebook.
We don’t tend to keep people for long. We pick them up like shiny smooth rocks, carry them in our pockets for a while, and then let them go. Maybe it’s time to let Mischief go.