Letters To My Classmates

Rare (2017/2018)

Dear Ringo Starr,

It's been quite a year, hasn't it?

I really, really don't know how to start this.  It's been so long since I've done something like this, something that strips me bare of my emotions.  I've always been one to bottle everything up inside of me before it all bursts out, the anger, the hurt, the pain.  You used to tell me how bad that was.

I used to talk to you about everything.  Whether it be advice or just to have some fun, I would always go to you.  You were a constant in my life, and I had foolishly thought you always would be.

But reality hit me like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly, you pulled away.  We were talking less and less.  I tried Ringo.  I really did.  I tried to start conversations, I tried to hold on.  It had only seemed fair.  You were the one, that started our interactions and asking me to hold up my end, didn't seem like that much to ask.  Friendship is a two-way street, of course.  But it seemed to me that our friendship had already hit rock bottom.

My last ditch attempt to be friends with you was pitiful, at most.  I take full blame for it.  It was a full-on confrontation, one that came after months of pent-up pain.  Pain for a hidden friendship, pain for a friend that was real, but at the same time, not.  It was anger, anger that I had held from you for months, and that wasn't fair to you.  If I had talked to you sooner, maybe, just maybe we could have worked something out.

I know you.  I know you even better than the back of my hand.  I know that you hide behind this air, an air of confidence and imbecilic behaviour.  And I was lucky, so damn lucky you let me see the real you, the one under all of that.  That's how I knew that the confrontation would be the end of our friendship, the end of an era.  You tend to run from confrontation, not face it.  And it was okay that you did, not saying it wasn't.  We're young.  We make mistakes.  We run away from things that scare us.  I'm not an exception, and you certainly aren't either.

After, things were never really the same.  I was angry, so angry, and I didn't want to give in and just talk it out.  You and I both know that I have an insane amount of hubris.  I didn't want to admit defeat, and I think you didn't want to either.  My pride held me back.  I didn't want to admit that I missed you and that I wanted to be friends again.  I felt like if I did, I would be giving up.  I don't think you wanted to give in any more than I did.

My hubris kicked in pretty early in the game. It was during a group project, the one at the beginning of the year?  I was so angry, so mad at you for not saying something, not acknowledging that we had been friends.  Even though I knew you weren't going to say anything, I still had hope for our friendship.  So when you ignored me, I snapped.  I yelled and ridiculed you.  I'm really sorry about that.  You didn't deserve it.  I hope you know that I didn't mean a word of what I said.  I realize now that you were only trying to make the most out of a crappy situation.

And I realize now how oblivious I was.

You started hanging out with people, with so many people, people I knew did not share the same life values as you.  You changed and not for the better.  Suddenly, you weren't the person I knew anymore, but someone completely different.   You hung out with Gossip Girl.  Gossip Girl!  The only person you used to claim to hate.  The one person I knew did not have any of the same values as you did.  In fact, she had the opposite values.

It hurt like hell seeing you those three months.  Every time I looked at you, all I would be reminded of was the person I used to know.  Our friendship was crumbling around my feet, and I clearly was the only one trying to put it back together.  You were too busy with your life, your other friendships to care about ours.

And finally, finally, after months and months of ignoring each other, I was at the tipping point.  You weren't the same.  You were now a different person, displaying more ego and cockiness than ever.  I couldn't handle it anymore.  I needed to know whether or not our friendship was worth saving.

So, I did something stupid.  I asked you, straight up, to your face if you wanted to be friends anymore.  And you said no.  It was a different answer to what I had expected.

But then you surprised me, once again.

We started talking again.  And it was great, while it lasted.  It was really different from what it was before, mainly because I wasn't sure if I could trust you with my deep feelings anymore.  It was a friendship based on fun.  It was really, really, nice.

But then, we stopped talking.  Again.  

We were back to square one, ignoring each other.  We would constantly be around each other but never utter a word.  It continued for months, hellish months.  You continued to hang out and talk to Gossip Girl and her crew.  By the time February 17th, our one year of friendship rolled around, we barely acknowledged the other's existence.

But in comes Chicken Butt.  A simple acquaintance at first, but he quickly turned into a really good friend.  He could never replace you, but he was, well, is the best.  He's just a such a good friend and has never managed to fail at putting a smile on my face.  Chicken Butt was the one who helped me understand you better, understand Gossip Girl's group better.  I get it now, it was easy to get sucked into the group.  They were easy to talk to.  Not deeply, but just for fun.  You needed people like that.  You needed fun in your life.  

I started to heal after that.  I knew that the only person who could sew me back up and fix myself was me.  It was a long process, but soon, I started to feel a little bit like my old self again.  I started smiling more and being a little less of a pessimist.  I hung out with new people, went out more and lived my life to the best that it could be.  I realized that I didn't really need your help with healing because suddenly, I was the broken patient, who also had seven PhDs and was wondering why the heck I needed someone with limited experience to help me (that was trying to be a Thor: Ragnorak reference if you noticed) 

It took me a while, but finally, finally, I found it within myself to respect the friends that you had made.  I was not necessarily friends with them, but I didn't have to be. We're in a good spot now.  I feel like we're now on the road to being friends.  Real friends.  In the real world, not just bubbles on a screen anymore.

Sometimes I wonder if I could go back and change things between us, and then I wonder if I really would.  It's better now than it ever was before.  And I think we needed to stop being friends, if only for a while.  We needed to find ourselves.  I needed to learn how to make friends that weren't you, and you needed to figure out a way to be yourself.

Does that mean I don't miss the way we were?  Heck no.  Does that mean I don't miss you, as a person?  Hell to the no.

The most important thing you taught me this year was to move on and not to hold onto grudges.  I'm not going to judge you based on our history anymore.  I used to, but I know that it's pointless.  People change.  Holding onto the past won't help you move into the future.  Treasure it, but don't get caught up on it.  I think that was my problem all along.  I was trying to grasp at a past that was no longer relevant to the present and future.

I'm going to keep that lesson in mind from now on.

  P.S.  I know you.  But now,  I think I can finally see you.  Clearer than ever.