I feel like this is one thing I have to do, I have to write, I have to allow to be real ... in order to let it go.
If you were to use the search function on this blog to find the name "Brian," you'd see that this guy is predominantly featured during some of my darkest times. He saved me from myself when I was going through the divorce, showing up when I needed something, someone to cling to. He was my rock. He was beautifully intuitive, knowing what to do or bring or be when I was at my lowest.
He provided me friendship when I was at my least lovable. He saw me through a horrible time. But now, he's just gone.
The last time I saw him was a few days after I had my gallbladder removed in July of 2009. He came over and made me waffles, once again sensing what I wanted most and then providing it. After that, he stopped taking my calls.
It breaks my heart, because he doesn't know this version of me. He has never met Maggie the Runner, or Maggie the Jeep owner. He doesn't know that I've become someone I (generally) really like. He doesn't know that I am, for the most part, healed.
Ours was never a romantic relationship. Well, except for that one time, right before I left EIU. Or that one summer day on the lawn at Rae's apartment. Or on Mother's Day 1997. Other than that, we were best friends. I thought he would always be in my life.
But he's not. So now, even though ever time Elton John's "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" comes on the radio, it's Brian I think of, I have to let him go. I have to accept that he left my life for a reason, even though he never said anything ... he just disappeared. I have to find a way to believe that it isn't something I did, or something I lack, that drove him away, because the wondering has made me crazy for two and a half years.
I have to be okay with being let go, and let my friend, go, too.
But I will always have memories of picnics in the park, great music, 1 a.m. trips to Denny's and that one day when he wouldn't let me go home to watch my husband pack up his belongings and leave me. I wish things were different, but I am eternally grateful that, when he could be my friend, he was very very good at it.