The Notion of Friendship IV: Rebuilding Bridges

So, on Saturday I went to Tykeisha’s annual block party shindig.  As usual, I had a great time just chillaxing on the street, watching everything and everyone around me.  That’s more my speed these days, observation.  You can learn so much when you just be quiet for a few minutes.

I always expect to run into an old TSA comrade.  We’re all connecting to that place like survivors of a Nazi concentration camp manage to find each other in support groups.  It’s always something we can talk about, the miseries, the drama and the scandal.

As time goes by, however, people start to drift away.  New people arrive and I don’t know them and I become nothing more than some random psycho who was enslaved there many moons ago. 

Every now and again, I run into someone totally unexpected.  This time it was Teonya.  When I left TSA, I figured there would be some people in my life that would remain constant, whether it be by myspace or facebook or one of the many TSA-sponsored events.  There were others I knew I would never see again, but then Facebook managed to connect us.  There were others that I barely remember until someone mentions their name and I have to struggle to recall their face.

Teonya fits into none of those categories.  We were never the best of friends, and that’s saying things mildly.  I think she stopped coming to TSA-sponsored events long before I quit.  I never knew her to be on myspace or facebook and can think of no one who has “friended” her on either one of those social networks.  When I meet up with other TSA ex-pats, no one mentions her because she ran in a different circle.

Now that I’ve passed That Total Age, I see very little point in keeping up old grudges.  Naturally, being the vindictive bitch that I am, there are some things that I will let burn forever, but for the most part I am so focused on myself that I rarely think of what was–until some crosses the line, that is, but that’s a story for another day.

It would have been completely rude not to speak to her since she addressed me so politely, and I must say that I’m glad I didn’t revert to my usual anti-social self and turn up my nose like I just smelled bad cheese on the lightrail.  She was still her fast talking self, hardly can understand a word but I managed to get the general idea of what she said.

She’s doing rather well.  Another surprise.  I guess I will never get rid of that snobbish streak in me that looks down on other people.  Chalk it up to how I was raised and an firm unwillingness to change.  She said she was a police officer, which I found disturbing, but she said she liked the work.  I may just see her cruising around in my genereal area of operations because she said she was leaving her district and coming soon to a county near me.

At any rate, after having established our post-TSA careers and where we stand on the food chain, we started discussing old stuff.  Ahh, all that old drama.  I think for once I will not air out all the laundry and keep much of the conversation to myself, but only because I’m still in the thinking stages on what I want to do.

I can never keep quiet too long and I’m sure by the end of the weekend there will be a fully detailed documentary on everything that has happened.  God did not grant me this ability to write so well only for me to keep it lodged in my brain.  It’s the natural way of things.

So, she said to me, “See how short life is and you want to keep old stuff burning?”  But it is not I!  Well, it is–I’ll accept some of the blame.  It really is such a shame, and even she could see that, why not the parties involved?

The irony is that I’ve been thinking about this particular subject for awhile now, at least for the past few months.  It’s been on my mind more and more lately, and I was asking a neutral party about the subject.  Ceciley, my mean friend thinks I should just let it die in the water.  She thinks much the same as I do.  Once people cross me, I’m kind of over it. 

I’m always accused of being too mean, snobbish and having this attitude that I’m better than everybody, but that’s not entirely true.  I think I’m too nice because I let people have so many chances. 

The one thing he did say at the end:  “Other people have done far worse things to her and she gave them a second chance.  Why not me?”

Maybe because at the time I was so just sick and tired of being sick and tired of people who constantly abuse me.  Do people deserve second chances?  Not just he, but I?  Do I deserve a second chance?  I’ve been just as foul as anybody. 

It’s that thing of being scared of rejection though.  What if I reach out with an olive branch and he sets it on fire?  I’m sensitive to stuff like that. 

At any rate, I heard he wasn’t doing well and I felt like I should reach out.  Not out of guilt, mind you, but in renewed friendship.  Ceciley says there is a reason you get rid of people, and she is right.  But then again, there is a reason we get put into each other’s lives.  What if I haven’t fulfilled my mission, whatever it may be.

See how complex all of this is? 

At any rate, I’ve blogged about it as required.  I feel the need to blog about everything even if it only has moderate significance.  It’s just the way of things.

Tomorrow I’ll go about it and see what happens.

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