Not sure when you and I became thick and fast. I didn’t really notice until you were already the wind beneath my wings, my crutches, my anchor, and my cage. I draw a blank now when I try to imagine my life without you.
Death was part of my life from such a young age. No suburban dream did I grow up in. I suspect this might be one thing which cracked the door open for you to steal inside.
The literature repeats the position that kids brought up in an unstable environment have a greater likelihood of befriending someone like you. Someone dependable, undemanding, and ever-present… a friend in need.
Our relationship is like that story about the little bird who migrates too late and falls to the ground, freezing. A cow happens by and shits on the bird, but the warmth thaws it and the bird begins to sing. However, the song draws a cat’s attention which eats the bird. Moral: someone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy; someone who gets you out of the shit is not necessarily your friend; and if you’re warm and happy in a big pile of shit, keep your mouth shut!
You are both my cow and my cat.
And here we are, decades later, still at it and still developing our, um… ‘interaction style’? I guess that phrase does as good as any.
I guess it was about 10 or so years ago when I really began to rely on you but that ball had started rolling in my late 20s. After identifying the who, what, when, where, how and why, now I’m seeking to rely less on you, yet still unsure what else there may be.
You’ve offered me such a clean and clear way to cope with overwhelming chaos, pain, that the alternatives pale in comparison. But an improvement in health and reduction in self-abasement are the new themes. Being so scientifically-minded, I cannot ignore the implications of a maladaptive coping strategy: there is more work to do on me and you.
In any case, this is the beginning of a good-bye to someone who has kept me sane and safe when no one else could or would. My appreciation is deep and will outlast our time together.
You have done an amazing job of keeping me well and supporting others and providing however, now I am turning a corner, and your style of protecting me is now that which is preventing me from self-esteem, self-care, and self-compassion.
You feel it too, right? When you finally have that mirror up to your face? I see your eyes widen in horror, the self-recognition, the loathing, the hatred? Please don’t be that way. You helped me. Focus on the helping me that you have done.
Perhaps you can, at least partially, take this path with me. Travel with me for a while, until you find your own feet. As in, not trodding all over mine.
I know you want the best for me, and of me, and so it is time for us to part.
Perhaps I will think back on our time together, in years yet to pass, as a glimmering star on dusk’s horizon, and recall how we wended our way through life…
I only hope I can become the man I can become, and never think of you again.
Good-bye old friend. I wish thee well.
A D R A N 