Today I'm going to share something very painful in the hopes that I will never have to deal with this again. Writing is my therapy many times, so I'm going to write about it.
Years ago, I had a friend. A very dear friend whom I thought of as a brother. His name was Matt. From the time I was in 6th grade (changed schools) until my early twenties, we saw each other often. Hell, we just lived around the block from one another. I loved him with all my heart. He was family to me. Even after I got married, my husband really liked him too. We used to all hang out and go places together. My parents loved him too.
Then one day in 2002 when I was on my way to work, I stopped at a gas station in town. There was Matt. He told me he was moving. He'd gotten a better job somewhere but promised to keep in touch and visit. I hugged him that day with a heavy heart. I smiled and wished him well, but something inside me knew, I would never see him again. I was right.
One day he was my best friend, the next he'd dropped off the face of the earth. With all the technology we have today I know that seems impossible. But it isn't. I've not been able to find him on any social networks. I checked for listed phone numbers in the general area where he moved. But he wasn't there anymore. In 2006 I found an address way down in Florida where I sent a letter, trying to reach him. If he got it, I never knew.
Over the years I have dreamed of him until I can no longer take the heartbreak. These dreams are never exactly the same. They normally consist of me seeing him somewhere. Damn, it's good to see him. We talk about our lives, catch up. Then, when I go to hug him goodbye, I realize it's only a dream. I wake up with my heart broken all over again.
It's 4:50 a.m. and I've just woken from another such dream. I can't take it any more. I just want to let this go. He may have moved a lot, but I have lived in the same house, on the same street. Until recently, I had the same phone number. And my parents still have the same number. He hasn't called. He hasn't written. He hasn't stopped by. As much as it hurts to admit, maybe I wasn't as important to him as he was to me.
I'm writing this to say goodbye. Stop haunting my dreams. I'm tired of waking up crying. Dreams of you have a way of showing up when I feel lonely and I need you most. It's cruel. I'm sick of it. This ghost of a memory that feels so real has got to let me be. So, wherever you are, Matt .... I'm tired of missing you. Goodbye.