I had a dream, tonight, that woke me up. So I'm writing.
I saw Brandi, again, for the first time in a long time. We were hanging out, being fairly friendly. I asked her why she stopped talking to me. She said, "We were on a path alone together," a reference to a beautiful Dar Williams song called February about the souring of a relationship.
I am currently engaged in one of the more difficult efforts of my life.
Forgiving Brandi.
Forgiveness is work. It can be tough work, depending on how recent and sore the wound is.
This work is hard, right now, because the wound is fresh and deep. Brandi was my closest friend just 5 years ago. And she had been my best friend for five years previous to that.
I want to say we dated, and that was the mistake. But that's not true. Plenty of people date and come out friends on the other side of that.
Brandi just kind of arbitrarily decided that she wasn't going to be friends. She says it has nothing to do with her marriage or her husband. It's just an arbitrary decision on her own part. "We're not in the same place," she says. She says she holds no grudge. Meaning, "I've decided to stop being your friend, but I'm not going to tell you why."
It's arbitrary and lame. It's one of the lamer choices Brandi has made, and she has made some doozies in the last couple of years.
I've forgiven a lot in my lifetime, so this too shall pass. It's just really, really painful, right now, because Brandi was someone I trusted more than most people. It's embarrassing to have strangers win your trust and then abuse it. It's far more painful to have friends and people close to you prove unworthy of trust and take no responsibility. Brandi was someone I trusted implicitly. It was a mistake, it seems. Either that, or Brandi just has a lot of reflection and responsibility to take about why she's behaved so lamely over the last couple of years. Guilt? Maybe. Who knows. I just know it hurts, right now.
I'm not the type of person, at all, who likes to hold onto pain or to engage in recrimination. People fuck up. Even cynically expecting forgiveness. They abuse trust. It's a part of life. I've done it a million times. And I forgive as I would want to be forgiven.
And I've watched a million people act badly out of guilt, as I am betting, right now, is motivating Brandi's behavior. I hope Brandi got married for the right reasons. I have all kinds of reasons to think that she didn't, and her most recent behavior only deepens that suspicion for me. And I think it's likely that she's treating me badly to avoid facing up. I've seen it a million times. I could be wrong. But I don't have a better explanation, right now. And Brandi offers none.
Pain is a part of life. It's not fun to go through. But it is a natural and necessary part of any relationship, friendship, family, or love. Pain is a part of love. And letting it go is a part of making love available to ourselves and to others. Holding onto pain and bitterness makes us less able to share love, and others less able and willing to share love with us.
I've never understood why people hold onto pain. It doesn't serve them or anyone else. Bitterness and recrimination serve noone. Not even ourselves, sadly. They undermine all of us. And are responsible, in their ugliest forms, for the worst crimes that humanity has to offer.
So I've got no reason to hold onto this pain. It's just fresh and deep. Because I trusted Brandi more than most people. And for whatever reasons, she has stomped all over my heart these last few years.
When Brandi and I were dating and after we broke up, I asked, at separate times, for Brandi to make two promises to me.
When we first started dating, I asked Brandi to promise that if we ever fell out of love, that we fall back in love again. It was a sweet and beautiful promise requested by a young man deeply in love.
Not living up to that promise is understandable. Many people make a go of a relationship and can't find it in themselves to make a second go.
When Brandi and I broke up, I asked and Brandi promised that we would not stop being friends or talking just because we started dating other people. Brandi and I had been best friends for more than a year with no sexual or relationship interest before we had started dating, after all. So it was important to me and I thought important to her, at the time, to maintain that friendship. For whatever reasons, it turns it was not so terribly important to Brandi, sadly.
Breaking that second promise is still understandable, in light of Brandi's marriage. Except that Brandi has said that this isn't the reason that she has broken off communication. So now it becomes less understandable and more arbitrary.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter how badly we are hurt or for what reasons. Forgiveness is always the only way forward. And when we give up on forgiveness, we give up on experiencing love fully in our lives. It's a foolish, foolish tradeoff that far too many people engage in, taking love for granted and the particular joy that it brings to life.
It's perfectly clear looking at the world, today, that so many people -- perhaps the majority -- give up on forgiveness and love, in this way. It's just the most tragic mistake that people can make, I think. Hubris is a serious mistake. But giving up on love, and the forgiveness that is at its heart, is the most tragic. Because love, true love, is one of life's rarer joys.
And because the bitterness that is the alternative serves noone. Not even ourselves.
I guess it's true that time will heal this wound as it heals all wounds. But working at it is important too. It just still feels fresh.
Maybe if I spend some time remembering the loving person I once knew, I'll feel better.
Love,
Ben
