You know, no matter how removed you are from the moments in your life that have hurt you the most and left the deepest scars, the pain and anger can just sweep back over you when you least expect it. For whatever reason, and I don’t know what it is, this is what my day has become. Maybe in part because of all the Whitney Houston news and music surrounding us this week, but I can’t help looking back.
When my best friend in the entire world told me she could no longer be my friend because I was taking her away from God for being gay, my heart was broken. For years, she new and openly accepted me for being gay. Regardless of my being gay, we loved each other. We did everything together. We were dance partners, we double dated, and we spent every weekend together. We were inseparable. We spent so much time together our other friends always felt left out. We had our own way of communicating 75% of the time with our eyes. Words weren’t necessary for us to understand what the other was thinking. Every secret no matter how dark, sordid or embarrassing was exchanged. We were truly best friends.
When went off to college (I was older than her by 2 years) I guess she started going to church. The Catholic Priest told her she should distance herself from me. And she listened to him.
The part that made it all the worse and made my heart shatter into a million pieces was that my boyfriend at the time had just dumped me. It wasn’t a pretty breakup. We fought and yelled and said the meanest things to each other (young love in its true form at the end).
You see, I was in tears and alone when he dumped me. 2 ½ hours from my family and my best friend, I had only been at college for a few weeks. I hadn’t yet met anyone in the area that I felt comfortable crying to and leaning on. I did what I thought would help me. First I packed an overnight bag, hopped in my car and started to drive through Richmond. With my cell phone in my hand I dialed my “best friends” number to tell her what was going on and that I was headed home to spend the night at my parents and wanted her to meet me there if she could.
When she answered she immediately said, “Listen, I have to get this out right now. I don’t think we can be friends anymore. I’ve been going to church. The priest says you are taking me farther from God because you are gay.”
Thankfully I was at a red light at this point because I probably would have driven off the road otherwise. Sitting there listening to her explain that I am a sinner and that unless I chose to be straight we were done was unreal to me. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. This call was only made because I had just been dumped by what I thought was my first love (later to learn that I was just naive like all 18 year olds that get dumped and it wasn’t ever love, just a strong like). I was calling my best friend to console me, to comfort me and to support me. I was calling the one person who would understand and even if she didn’t understand, would not judge me for crying or being upset.
I hung up the phone and began to cry hysterically. In one hour I was dumped by my boyfriend and my best friend. I was a disaster. Had I been in the right mind I probably would have pulled off the road and known better than driving any farther, but I wasn’t in the right mind.
I pulled onto interstate 95 in my yellow mustang convertible with the music blasting and tears pouring down my face. I was completely oblivious to the world. Within a minute of being on the interstate red lights began flashing behind me. I looked down and my speedometer and saw that I was flying at about 89 miles per hour.
Things couldn’t get worse for me. I pulled the car over, turned the music down and tried to clean my face up as I waited for the officer to approach my car.
He got to my window, which I had rolled down, and bent over to look at me. He asked me the typical question, “Do you realize how fast you were going?”
I looked up at him, he was a sexy man but that is beside the point, and without a second wasted I began crying. Between sobs and floods of tears I blurted out to this southern cop, “my boyfriend just left me and my best friend from high school just said we can’t be friends any more because I am gay. My life sucks!”
The cop suggested I get out of the car. He took me to his car and sat me down in the front passenger side of his patrol car. He walked back around and sat in the driver’s seat and just looked at me as I tried to stop crying. I had no clue what was going on. It’s not normal to sit someone in the front of a cop car; at least I am assuming it isn’t normal.
He told me to calm down and that he had to give me a ticket under the circumstances, but he would drop my speeding from the about 34 miles per hour over I was going, to 5. He also said he would sit with me until I was not crying any more so that he knew I could drive safely.
When I needed it most he showed me that not all people are evil.
Sadly he didn’t save me from myself. Since that day I have not let many people in. I have no trusted many people to be good friends or told many people anything about my past. Trust and opening my heart up to new friends really hasn’t happened. Currently I really only have 3 close friends. Everyone else I keep at a slight distance.
Today I was reminded of those feelings of hurt and pain and betrayal I felt the day my best friend stabbed me in the face. Even though no one has hurt me in that way I feel the wall going up around me that I have been working for the past 8 years to break down. I know part of it is the sad music constantly playing in tribute to Whitney Houston mixed with issues with family and friends that have been going on.
I think I am just mad because I am over the loss of this friend who I loved and trusted so I don’t get why I still get moody when the memory of all this slips back into my head and that I still have issues truly trusting people. When ever I start to trust someone and they risk that trust even the slightest I instinctually shut them out and they lose all my trust.
It’s not exactly the best way to function.