Before I officially launched this Web site two weeks ago, I compiled the email list of people I wanted to contact. I decided that I was going to tell everybody on earth that I knew about my Web site, and would let them decide if they were interested or not. I included friends and family, some co-workers, some people I used to work with. And I also scoured my old email databases and found some names that surprised me, including a few people I?d lost touch with over the years, for whatever reason.Before I officially launched this Web site two weeks ago, I compiled the email list of people I wanted to contact. I decided that I was going to tell everybody on earth that I knew about my Web site, and would let them decide if they were interested or not. I included friends and family, some co-workers, some people I used to work with. And I also scoured my old email databases and found some names that surprised me, including a few people I?d lost touch with over the years, for whatever reason.
One of those people?someone I used to work with?is a guy I?ll call Jeff. We first met about 10 years ago when I was a staff reporter and he was in the accounting department. We hit it off pretty much right away. Jeff and I both liked books, we were Yankee fans and shared a similar sense of humor. We?d chat throughout the day and go out for drinks now and then. And he was a big fan of my writing, even back then. He thought I had real promise, and was very encouraging. He was in my corner; I was in his.
And then ? I started to realize that while Jeff had a lot of good qualities?he was loyal and honest, smart and funny, and just a decent person overall?he was also a bit toxic. I discovered in him an inner bitterness I hadn?t picked up on right away. Jeff was an optimist ? sometimes. But he could be quite negative at times (can?t we all?), which didn?t bother me so much at first, except that I started to feel weird sort of tug. As the next year or two went on I got the very real sense that while he wanted me to succeed at work and with my writing, he also kinda didn?t want me to succeed [i]too[/i] much. I was trying to get better as a journalist, at writing fiction, but I got the sense that he liked our friendship just as it was, and wanted to hold it in place. Boxed in.
It was bizarre. He would read some of my stories and tell me he liked them, but then in the same breath trash parts of them as if my writing missteps?as he saw them?were obvious, and I obviously should have seen them myself, and that I should be scolded for not noticing sooner.
I know it?s difficult sometimes to describe the nuances in a relationship so that someone else can get it, so I?ll just say that I didn?t like the way I started to feel when I was around Jeff. I felt a little ? guilty. Punished. Ashamed.
This got me upset. At times I felt betrayed by Jeff because he wasn?t being the person I thought I knew. Sometimes I would get angry when I thought about him. Sometimes I?d get frustrated. And other times I?d be disappointed or even sad. And then I went through times of feeling guilty about how I felt, like[i] I [/i]was betraying [i]Jeff [/i]for not thinking of him in the same light I once did. I was blaming myself for abandoning Jeff! This wasn?t good.
So as the years went on I talked to him less and less, and finally, about five years ago, I decided to move on. It had been about six months since we?d been in contact, and when I thought about reaching out to him ? I didn?t. And quite honestly, I didn?t miss him at all.
Somewhere along the line, though, something occurred to me that helped put my Jeff situation in perspective. Deep down I blamed Jeff for not being the friend I wanted, for not being the person I wanted. But that?s on [i]me[/i]. My expectations simply were not in line with reality. I wanted to Jeff to be the person that I wanted him to be, rather than accepting him for the person he really was. I didn?t like admitting this, but a big part of my unpleasant feelings about Jeff had nothing to do with Jeff. They had everything to do with me. Once I accepted my own responsibility?took ownership of my part of the relationship?my guilt and frustration went away immediately.
I simply accepted that Jeff is Jeff. Good, bad, right, wrong or indifferent. He is who he is. And either there was a place in my life for Jeff or there wasn?t. For a long time I decided there wasn?t.
Fast forward to two weeks ago and I found Jeff?s email in my address book. It had been about five years since we last had contact and so I thought, oh, what the heck? Sometimes two people just need a break from each other, so I?ll include Jeff on my email list, and maybe it will be better now. That?s even if Jeff responds.
He did. Which I thought was very cool.
But within reading the first two sentences of Jeff?s email, there he was again, being harsh and critical without my even asking. The same feelings kicked up in me again, like I was tainted, being dragged back down in the mud. It was the same old Jeff. And that old Jeff isn?t a bad person overall, he?s just not a good person for me to have in my life.
So I won?t be contacting Jeff again.
This time around I accept Jeff for Jeff. I wish him well. But his journey will have to unfold without me in it, just as mine will unfold without him.
Sometimes old friends just can?t be new friends. And sometimes, maybe it?s better that way.
