My friend, no wait that's a lie I shit on her too... I know this girl named Suzi, and Suzi is pretty much a negative image of me. All the way around, from our spiritual life to the kind of clothes we wear, we are complete opposites. That's not true about her not being my friend anymore, Suzi is the type of person who loves you no matter what. But I did shit on her. I didn't sleep with her husband, or rip her off, none of the stuff I would've done say, twenty years ago.
What I did was go away. No rhyme or reason I just went, and stayed went for the duration of her time left here before she moved to Florida. Four months of no phone calls, no laughing our asses off, no crying jags (always mine) at midnight over anything other that what was really going on.
Four months of not drinking coffee on her deck while Al and her dog Jade played in the sprinkler, four months of me not being there to help her leave the only home she's ever known and all of her family, to be with the man she adored. Shitty as hell.
I call this the 'Fallout Factor'. It's a direct response to the losses in my life, namely my mother and my daughter. Suzi was my last attempt at a friendship. She went to Florida, married the most wonderful man in the world, and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy on Athena's birthday.
She sends general delivery emails with pictures, but no real communication since she found out she was pregnant. Everything I do, everything I touch is poisoned by the guilt I feel over letting Athena go, twice. I left my mother alone, I let my daughter go, I am not under the impression that Jesus saves, so what's a girl to do? Keep writing, keep writing, keep writing.
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