Random Access Memories

I now understand the true meaning of the phrase 'hair trigger'.
Happened to me today.  I was happily rolling along, minding my own little biz, singing along to Tori Kelly, annoyed at the semi driving 7 miles an hour in front of me, then, BAM. A little invisible emotion ninja roundhouse kicked me in the throat and I had to remember how to swallow and breathe for the next two blocks.

I'm babbling now.  Let's rewind.

Five months ago, my friendship with Poppa took it's last breath. There was no warning.  No fight. No disagreement. Hours before, we were texting and sending stupid jokes back and forth. Few days before, he was acting a little distant, and when I confronted him about it, I got, and I quote: "Of course not baby, why would I be mad at you?  I love you." Suffice it to say, everything was fine...until it wasn't.  I found out about his desire to end our friendship through (you ready for this?) INSTAGRAM. Via some stupid meme/quote things that were very obviously aimed at me. This man, who, at 36 years old prides himself on how much of a grown man he is, and how he doesn't shy away from confrontation; all things I can vouch for because I've seen them with my own two eyes over the course of our friendship. A guy that was a gang enforcer and roughed people up for sport, and had armed standoffs with police- this, another thing I witnessed firsthand.  A guy that can do all of this...but was unable to come to his very best friend of more than twelve years and say, 'Hey, somethings wrong here, I don't think we should be friends anymore.'

I can respect the truth, even if I don't like what you have to say.

When I confronted him about it, at first he tried to play dumb and coy, basically laughing in my face.  I sent him a paragraph basically telling him I wasn't gonna chase him and beg him to be my friend. I got the most infuriating response in the history of modern texting.... "K".

That's what more than a decade of ride or die friendship got me.  A decade of me being there for him through TWO divorces and a babymama.  Staying up on the phone with him at 2 am when he was half asleep heading back in from a job.  Keeping him from falling apart when his mother died. Walking him through what to do when his daughter got her first period while she was on the road with him. Being present at family functions. Saving his ass from being blown to pieces by the fucking SWAT team.  All this and then some...and I couldn't even get an explanation at the end of it all. I was flicked off like a nobody.

At first, I did ok with everything.  I mean, of course I was hurt, I was destroyed- this is the person I trusted the most in the whole world. But I let it roll off.  I was so shocked that he was able to drop me like I was nothing that I basically just gave him the same treatment.  No 'Come to Jesus' moments, nothing.  I hardly even cried. I'm sure alot of that was anger...maybe shock. But even after it wore off, aside from some fleeting sad seconds, I was just numb to it all.

Leave it to that bullshit ass semi to drive right through the wall I built.

I don't really even know why it happened.  I see semis everyday and they never triggered anything. I let the guy in front of me, got pissed at him for driving slow, and then got blasted in the face with feels that I didn't want. If I'm being totally real, it physically hurts. My broken heart has manifested into something literal, like my whole everything is starting to break apart and the floodgates have been obliterated.
It's a fucked up feeling.  I understand grief has stages but I don't want this.  To cry over yet another asshole that disappointed me..it's the same trope I've been dealing with for my entire adult life and I'm bored of it.
Even if I did want to let go, I don't have the freedom in my house to do so without judgement from my kids, especially my daughter, who's insensitivity sometimes astounds me. Me giving into the grief means me having to deal with side eye and snark, and I get enough of that already.
Right now tho, sitting in an empty house, writing this bullshit down, I'm barely keeping it together, like a dam about to break. And if I start, I'm afraid I won't be able to stop.

I know he fucked me over, and I should just be angry, but it just feels like he died.  I'm mourning him.  He was the closest person to me, and the one I went to for everything. If I was having a rough time and just needed to ugly cry on the phone, or if I had good news or needed a cheerleader or something to make me laugh or have a deep conversation.  I know I have friends, but everyone has that one person who's seen every bit of the ugly and still loves you, and he was mine. Losing that is like losing your center.
This whole thing has kicked me in the dirt.  My hair is turning white at a ridiculous pace, then falling out. It weighs on me so bad that it's actually starting to make me hunch over.  I try to ignore it, and most of the time I succeed, but right now I just feel punched in the gut. At the risk of sounding fully pathetic, despite the fact that I'm almost always surrounded by people, I've never felt more lost and alone in my whole life.
And I'm so fucking sad.
Fuck flowery language and witty snark. I'm fucking sad, and mad, and blindsided, and I want him to call me and tell me he's fucking sorry so I can tell him to go fuck himself and have closure. He was my person, and he robbed me of that because now he can never be again, no matter how many 'sorrys' he spews at me, and I hate him for that. For that he should apologize.

I can't see anymore.