snippet from How to write a book. Memoir
How to write a book. Memoir
It the first day of the new year of the new decade. I’m trying to recall new year’s past. I cannot remember what I did last year. And then I remembered. I danced with my bunny in my blue jump suit. We ate cheese and watched a movie with Dolly and Flavia.

Flavia and I are no longer friends. I made a lot of mistakes with that and I know my actions hurt her, but I was unable to change the form of our relationship without leaving it. Our friendship flourished when Phil broke up with me. She took me to dinner and drink and was there to listen and process. We watched the sun disappear. We drove to the middle of nowhere Oregon and slept on the ground so we could stare into the eye of God. Made a cheese board on her roof. Got stuck in traffic and over the mountains, I signed up for a marathon. Nine weeks before the date. We went out dancing and she said it was my birthday. I met Michael. The cute boy returning from China. He was the second person I had sex with. It was the first time I had fun while having sex. We again drove to Oregon. Pouring rain slept in a hotel and woke up to run the marathon. Banana shirt and banana in hand. I cried when I crossed the finish line. We dressed up and I could barely walk and we feasted on courses at beast. Went to a bar and again met Michael. I spent the night with him. No sex. Just beside him. He met us later for lunch. I was in love with him, just like I was in love with Christian and any other guy who says the right thing at the right time. I was in love with that moment.
She titled me sad girl and I embraced that at moments. Everything was so interlaced. I was at her parents church. They were encouraging. “ My God loves Me.” They also told me God couldn’t move a parked car. Lia also asked how they could support Phil. She also said that we would worship in heaven so we can worship together now.

As stupid as it may have been, I was utterly heart broken. The devastation of no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I try to respect myself and the other person,no matter how intentional I try to be, no matter how hard I try to communicate, I cannot make someone love me. Worse, I was a fool. I didn’t know he was trying to convince himself the whole time. I think I was trying to convince myself too. I thought it would slowly unravel to be this beautiful poem. “We packed our initial dates. I think Phil was truly trying to be the best version of himself and trying to like the best version of me, but we weren’t the best version. And the true Phil did not like nor love me. “ I want someone to love you like you love people. I do not know if that is necessary. But you can love me. It’s embarrassing how my heart aches writing this now. It makes me so sad and not because I want to be in the relationship. I was so innocent and so deceived. I believe if I am good, good things will happen. Life does not work like that. I don’t need to be a good girl to keep the world from falling. Sometimes the world falls. Sometimes I am a mess and the world is good.

I started running on my own. I had to distance myself from the label of sad girl and the monotonous drone of complaints. I was not giving myself permission to complain about work and I could not be around it. I did not communicate that until months later. When I ran the half marathon on my own, it felt like a betrayal to train privately, to run with someone else. But my family came and met me at the finish line- the unexpected support. I had gluten free pizza. And Dolly was there and I cry again now for all the years I told myself I was alone when I wasn’t. Such loneliness and sorrow with a stubborn optimism to survive.

The invitation to Flavia to create, participate, and the shirking. The cancelling of worship night, the suicidal depressed text I shared with chef Jamie. the intervention in the office. The refusal to help her self. I cannot help her. She edited papers. She walked with me and brought me a banana slushee. I was inferior in the role, or I was the older sister. The dynamic was not quite right and I didn’t know how to rise above it. And when I fouond out I was sick. I coudlnt’ tell her. It was right after the church closed its doors and she didn’t really share what she was thinking either. The leaving of a church didnt have to be the end of our friendship, but it only existed within the context of the church. It is hard to love a person, have tremendous memories and acknowledge the relationship was not healthy. It did not bear good fruit. I want her to be well more than anything. I want her to laugh. I want her to have the deepest joy but I cannot want that more than she does. I cannot assume previous roles. So it ended with a letter from her that I never acknowledged and then a few days later I was at her house for her birthday playing cards and giving her gift. Then there was Luke’s birthday, the day my mom had a heart attack and I gave her a side hug. And the day she came to Little Brother to buy a bottle of wine after her mom finished the 10x Ironman. And then she left the business, put in her notice. I changed the filter on instagram to hide her posts. Its another kind of break up, but the only way I knew to end it was to leave. Our conversations where not productive. Me leaving the church was about the church not meeting my needs, but it wasnt’ about that. I couldn’t commmit to hiking with her every week, and that felt again like betrayal. The talk at the beach was the most honest. It had been 6 months since the conversation in the office. I said it made me sad that she didn’t want joy. I asked if I could help her find a therapist and she responded that I needed one too. I agree. When she asked to talk I told her I was focusing on my health and would connect. When she asked again I responded the same way, that I was focusing on my health and I looked forward to connecting in the future. I understand being caught in that middle place sucks. I wasn’t ready to break up with her, and I wasn’t healthy enought to have a clear conversation without blubbering or being immersed in an emotional septic tank. So I faded away without explanation after two years of investment. I take full responsibility and I am so proud of myself.


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