i like to tell stories

.twice in my life now, i have lost a friend because of something i wrote. in each case it was a total surprise that i didn’t see coming. one took years to play out, one happen rather quickly. neither of which i can fully share every detail of, not that i care to keep a single word or image a secret as i like to think i live my life without them to the best of my ability, but because i see no reason to further cause those that are now bothered by me any further grief. while not posting images to go with this story that identify anyone here, i won’t hide them away either.

.the first was a journal page i had done. the person that was bothered to this day has never read it. it’s been 10 years. we spoke one day long ago before the falling out and they asked me if i wrote about a certain situation that occurred between us years before. when i said yes, this person dropped me from the their life. the fact that they never read it, it was unpublished or that it was unreadable online years after i was dropped didn’t matter, just knowing i wrote down something they had told me once so long ago, somehow hit a nerve i will never understand. i didn’t even write about the odd event that occured between us, i just wrote what was discussed later, no matter, they are now long gone. it still hurts. i didn’t deserve it.

.a mutual friend told me this fall all that they ever heard from this person about me was that i did something inappropriate.

.the other is very recent, while i’ve known this person for 17 years, we only became close again this fall thanks to mutual friends and the miracle of video ichat. sadly, it is the same person that told me the other person thinks i am inappropriate.

.one random night, this person surprised me with something special, unexpected and wonderful over the internet. it made me feel loved in a moment i really needed to. i printed and framed up a response i thought was beautiful and mailed it off. it made them blush and that was that. our relationship moved on as always. a month or so later, they surprised me again, i sent off a series of what i simply considered thank you letters. nothing more nothing less, just something to keep our odd bond alive, no matter if it was fantasy or reality, real or fake, it was how our relationship was defining itself. so i thought.

.it would seem i was wrong again. this person too disappeared only after it was them that open the door. it still hurts, i didn’t deserve it.

.twice, two people i considered important in my life are gone, because of something i did for them i considered special, maybe off the map a little, yet otherwise grounded in sincerity, respect and love.

.twice, both opened the door to a side of them i hadn’t known, twice, it was my reaction in writing or images that then made then vanish. i wish it didn’t, i wish i still knew them. i wish i could say i would do it different, but everything i wrote, every image i made, in those moments, felt right, felt good, to make, to share and to give away.

.it seems i am inappropriate.