Life of secrets
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I managed to get out of going to church. It’s the anxiety that it causes for me. Not because I don’t believe. I think my problem is, I believe too much.
I’ll go into all of that another time.
I was going to write about my best friend, R. I miss him. I’ll still call him my best friend even though we haven’t spoken since February. It’s almost been a year without him (again, not dead).
R was my rock. Known him for 15 or so years. I could talk to him about anything and everything. I could call him in the middle of the night and wake him up crying or moaning about something or just for a general chat and he’d never get mad. He would go out of his way for me more than anyone in my whole life has (aside from perhaps my parents when I was little). He was more of a husband to me than my actual husband. He knew / knows me more than anyone in this world does.
And I lost him in February over a stupid girl. I also think I lost a baby around that time too because of the stress of the situation but the doctors wouldn’t confirm and all I know is I had faint lines for 3 days until they disappeared and I got my period. So I’ll never truly know for sure. But every time I look back at the photos, I am convinced it was an early miscarriage.
I’m mad at him for that. I’m mad at him for not trying harder. I’m mad at the fact I’ve not heard from him at all. Sometimes I wonder if he put her up to it, to get rid of me. Perhaps he was silently fed up of me just like I am with my husband, and he didn’t have the heart to end our friendship directly. But when I truly think of this, it doesn’t feel right.
I want closure but I don’t know how to get it. I could turn up at his house but then I think, why should I? If he cared, he could call. It’s been long enough.
But I miss him still. I don’t know how much longer I can go on without him, is the honest truth. The last few months haven’t felt real.