Now that I've had a week or so to step back and look at things a
little differently, I feel badly for you. I re-read your myspace and facebook profiles, and all I can do is hold back from crying, because you and I both know it's all a bunch of bullshit. You can talk all about how you are "compassionate" towards others, yet you have never held any real compassion towards your supposed best friend. You've used the excuses that you're "crazy" and that it's "impossible to maintain friendships" in whatever setting you're in, but you don't seem to fully grasp that something ain't right about your situation.
I know you are truly a good person below all of your issues. And I know it probably scares the living shit out of you that other people might really care or that you might actually be able to do something with your life besides getting drunk out of your mind every time you have a few bucks to spare. I wish you could just see this and realize that you need a lot of help. But to do that, you
need to be honest with yourself, with your therapist and with your friends. I know you didn't want me to leave, but you need to understand that I cannot live in fear that you're going to fuck me over. You've pulled shit like this on me before, but never to this extent. I know you are very sick and need treatment right now, but you have to understand that you have put me in a very serious position. Because of your actions, I now might not be able to afford anything for the next few weeks. I have to borrow another student loan before I was ready to do so because you needed money.
And trust me, I don't blame only you. I blame myself for not trying to understand your issues. I blame myself for forking over money because I thought you would do the same if I were in that position. I blame myself for staying with you and throwing your life into more chaos even though you asked me to live there. I blame myself for not leaving at the beginning of the month (when I had planned to do so). I am so angry in part because I feel like I should have known better and everytime SDC reminds me that I should have known better, I get angry with him because he's right. You've put me in a position where the only thing I can do is hate you or else I will want to call or email you to make sure you are okay. The night that everything blew up, I was simultaneously angry and scared to death, but not for the reasons you might think. I knew SDC would let me stay with him, because that's the type of friendship we've always had. I've always known I could count on him when it really mattered. I was scared because I thought you were choking down half a bottle of tranqs. I almost called the cops for a suicide watch on you because I was scared to death that you might try to hurt yourself. And when I lashed out at you the next day, it was because I was so angry that you had worried me for no damn reason at all.
If you didn't want me there, you could have just told me instead of using the one thing you could hold over my head to put me in my place. And I can't totally fault you for not just telling me, because I know you are so sick that you couldn't rationally see that. In your head, there is no grey area, only mania and depression.
As angry and frustrated as I still am with you, I can't help but fight back the urge to call or message you just to make sure you're okay. I almost wish you would contact me with "fuck off" just so I'd know you weren't the best friend I've known and loved for years. Just so I'd know that you are too far gone to talk to me.
You've put me in a strange position, Matt, and I wish you understood how much this bothers me. I can't help you. I fully understand that now, but I want you to get help. I want you to realize that there are at least several people out there who care and who want you to become healthy. And once you strip away all the bullshit and all the past traumas and just the past in general, I hope you can see this. I hope you can realize that you deserve to function like a "normal" person. I wish you the best of luck and I hope we can be close again. I hope to -- as SDC put it -- have you at the kitchen table one day. Unfortunately, I don't see it happening.
Please prove me wrong for once.
