I miss lots of people in my life.
I miss my father, who died when I was a little girl. I miss a little boy who was just a baby when I saw him for the last time, but I struggle to discuss that even now. I miss children that I’ve never even met, because they had to go before they came into the world. I miss my best friends Gigi and Meghie, because they live 2.5 hours away and I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like and sometimes, I feel like digital communication doesn’t always properly convey emotions, sarcasm, wit & not to mention all friendships need that face time & I miss girls’ night & daiquiris. But there are two people I miss more than most and that’s my former best friend and a little girl.
I loved that little girl. I loved her as much as if she were my own little girl and she loved me. My absolute favourite memory from my time in this house was after I finished writing my second semester transcription exams and my girls were playing with her and her dad in my backyard and she saw me before anyone else and she ran to the gate to meet me, giggling and laughing and gave me the biggest hug. In that moment, we felt like a family and I can honestly say, in that moment, I was the happiest person in the entire world. During this past year, my therapist actually questioned if I missed her dad, or her. (I thought I knew the answer, until the incident at Thanksgiving that left me fleeing a bar in tears made me reevaluate). But I do miss her, especially when my youngest daughter asks for her. Fortunately, she asks less and less now that she has her new BFF Josy. But every couple of weeks, she will ask when her friend will come over and play with her and Josy and her little face still crumples when I remind her that she’s not coming over anymore. I know why I can’t see her anymore & it’s what’s best for her. I know that she’s likely forgotten me. I’m glad for that, for I know how much it pains my youngest when she sees a silver, two door car go down our street & she gets so hopeful. I hope she’s happy & healthy & has a wonderful life. I know that this is the best way, but I miss her so very much and the night @ the bar, I bombarded my companion with questions about her; had she grown, was she healthy, does she still smile that giant toothy grin when she sees a camera, does she still look just like her dad, did she still sing the word “no?” I wanted to know about her more than anything. But, unfortunately, part of life is learning that sometimes you lose people that you love, which also meant this little girl. I also learned what I can handle, & while I would have loved to be this child’s stepmother & help raise her, I know that I cannot date a man with kids. I’m too afraid of once again getting attached to a child that can be taken from me when the relationship goes to Hell. This was a good learning experience for me, if nothing else & I’ll take the lesson into my future relationships.
The other person is the person I used to call my life mate, who was my favourite guy in the whole world until he got sick of my being super depressed and found out that he lied to me about a whole bunch of stuff, including telling me to wait for the little girl’s dad, we’d work it out. For months, I let my anger fuel my refusal to miss him, because I trusted him and he lied to me over and over again. I felt betrayed. But one day, after a long period of months, I got thinking that maybe he lied because, in his mind, he was protecting me. He didn’t want to see me hurt, so he wanted to make it better. But, his lying kept me living in misery, and as my life continued to fall apart, he kept the lies up and I kept falling apart. I thought about it though; I was a super crappy friend. I was so miserable, missing a man and a little girl and flailing at school and struggling to live without journalism. I literally hated my life and I wanted something to make things better and I leaned on him so hard to make things feel a little better. So, he lied, trying to give me a silver lining. Yes, it was cruel, but his intentions weren’t. Sometimes, I want to apologize, but then I think about how he deserves an apology but I’m always the one apologizing & he’d need to apologize to me too. I was a miserable friend; but it takes two to wreck a friendship and when he wrote me the “break up” letter, he barely acknowledged his part. It was a lot of how he and another friend were blameless, and that’s not how things work. It takes two to mess things up. Just like it took two people to sever the tie that took the little girl out of my life, it took two people to wreck our friendship, and if he apologized, I would accept it and maybe he could accept my apology. He & I could talk and he could see that I’ve found my own happiness without anyone and I like my life. The Pirate Princess could tell him about her shoes. We’d go to Starbucks and laugh @ the hipsters and I’d text him tales from the new city and one name would forever be banned from conversation. But, I doubt that would happen, so I just prefer to think that he’s happy with his life. I hope he meets an amazing guy and get his six coloured wedding. I hope he does well in his career and takes a million pictures and expands his portfolio. I hope he knows I’m not mad about his actions anymore, because I understand that my actions helped him make the choice to do that and I own those actions and I’m sorry. But most of all, I hope he looks back on all of the memories and smiles.
That’s the one good thing about people; we remember. I’ll always have the awesome memories with my life mate. I’ll have the flowers from his promotion, the birthdays @ Hoi. I’ll have the blue Darknuts being stupid, the Hedley concert and our Valentine’s day date @ Olive Garden & Maroon 5. I’ll have the moments on his porch, walking his dog and the time he embarrassed me @ Chili’s. All of those plus the other memories will go with me wherever I go. I’ll always have my memories of that little girl and I can take them with me wherever I go and remember these people as the good people I loved and will always love and hope they’re happy in everything they do.
The Misadventures of MHC 