Afterward.

Have I avoided writing for the past week because blocking off pain is the only way I know how to deal with actual hurt?

Yes. 

Am I already crying, after spending the last week fighting so very hard against any ounce of feeling, positive or negative (and failing for the most part?)

Yes. 

I don’t know how to start. 

Not that I need to worry about that much anymore. 

He’s gone. 

Trevor. 

Trevor is gone. 

The hardest I have cried in my life was on Sunday night. 

The most I have cried in one day was on Monday. 

I had to read or watch reels to keep any thoughts from forming, because they were all about him. 

Not him per se. Some of them were about me. Angry things, wishing for a chance to redo it all, to have never cared so much, to have not told so many people about YWAM and all that came with it. 

I’ve been keeping little snippets in my notes app to come back to. 

Let’s start with that. 

Also, Trevor says he’s unsubscribed, but I still see him on the list. 

Likely, it’s a glitch, or he’ll realize and not read, just leave. 

I’m tempted to say I deserve it, but that’s not quite right 

Before I jump into the snippets, I’m reading the whole Bible before I’m allowed to reach out to him again. I thought I was making good progress, but I’m not. Maybe that’s a good thing. God will get me there when He sees fit. 

Anyway. Here we go. 

Sunday:

Things to figure out. 

I can work longer (absolutely not. Just because Trevor isn’t coming doesn’t mean I get to torture myself.)

Flights. I can’t bring as much stuff now, and that rusting guitar. I should have just never bought it. (The only thing I have to leave is my weighted blanket. I do have to deal with a six hour layover in Denver all alone, and figure out the bus to Bellingham, but it wasn’t all that hard to figure out. It does make me think that if I had taken the train, would it be different? I’d have to go to Portland.)

I can’t carry things from the rusting airport (yes I can. Magic.)

No ride from the airport (Mama Sarah)

Money to replace the ticket costs (Trevor felt bad. I think.)

Something to replace the vibrant friendship since that clearly won’t be a thing anymore (wow I called it. First: God. Second: haven’t found a human replacement, but maybe I’m not supposed to. Third: ouch.)

Avoid talking with my mom at all costs (eh. She’s seen me cry more this week than ever before.)

And my family (done.)

Break Javan’s heart (he literally didn’t care. What a goober)

Get over myself and stop rusting crying at work (done, but not in any healthy ways.)

I don’t want his nice things about Kiah letter, because no matter what he writes, this is still the end result (I would fight a multitude of battles for that letter. I would die.)

Actually go ghost (like I had a choice)

If I wanted him to come so badly, why did I bring it up? (That’s what I keep asking myself. Self sabotage is a huge part of it. But why? Because I don’t see things in my life as going well, so when they are, to maintain control, I have to ruin them?)

Tuesday: I have to go a full day without crying, then I can write the next day (here we are. I did cry yesterday, but I’ve convinced myself it was because of work and not him.)

She asked me if I was cutting myself. She misses nothing. (My old mentor. I had a lapse of sanity. To be fully honest, it was so I wouldn’t kill myself. The physical pain kept my thoughts in a neat little line.)

Yesterday: I am very well versed in the language of manipulation. (Yes. This was about my family. I think it’s a mix of nature and nurture, but it is one of my worst character flaws, and runs deep into everything I do, or at least that is how it seems to me. That is a thought spiral that I buried last year. Unfortunately, the person that held the other shovel was Trevor, so in his hasty leaving, he has dug up that old sin.)

Today. 

I now have a perfect track record of all of my best friendships ending in disaster. Or at least in flame. 

This does not give me hope for the future. 

This in fact does the opposite. 

I have lost desire to make friends. To talk to people. 

I quit reaching out first, and wouldn’t you know it, so did everyone else. 

I guess God wanted me to have some trauma to work through and cry over when I’m at YWAM this go around. 

Enough of that. Heres my thoughts now. 

I don’t even know if I like him like that. Everyone else kept saying I did.

I have had two key phrases rattling loose in my mind, swimming to the surface at unexpected and inopportune moments. 

“We can’t talk.” 

Amazing what three words can do to the psyche. 

It’s not even like we talked that much in the first place. 

He was my best friend, why am I trying to play this off like anything less than it is?

This was my best friend going no contact with no warning on a Sunday evening, “for my own good”. 

I have felt more pain in the past week than I have felt in my life. 

Just goes to show two things. 

One: I have lived a very good life. 

Two: i relied on him far too much. 

A surprise third: God was never number one in my heart. 

Him continuing to be friends with me would have been exponentially less painful than this, no matter his relationship status or feelings or activity. I don’t think he saw that. 

I keep telling people “oh yeah, God is taking away idols and bringing me to Him, it’s for the better, I’m reading my Bible now, so I’m happy it happened” but I am not happy. 

Every little bit of work I have done in myself in regards to rejection sensitivity and abandonment wounds has been undone. 

But it’s for my good, right?

Undoing years and years of healing. 

For my good?

It wasn’t about my good really. 

I  want to be all bitter and say that he left because I was too much to deal with or that he had wanted to be rid of me this whole time, but even I know that those are lies. 

I was never his job to fix, and if he had wanted to be rid of me, he could have left a long time ago. 

The other phrase, I wasn’t supposed to see. He may have promised to not look at my blog (which I didn’t want him to promise), but I said no such thing. 

“Unfortunate termination of a close friendship.”

Those words never leave. 

I have dissected them thousands of times by now. 

I was on the same level as the car accident. Flattering, maybe, but it doesn’t do me any good. 

Unfortunate, like he didn’t set it in motion (like I didn’t set it in motion just to prove that my deepest fears were true)

Termination. So final. I like to skip over that word. I want to skip over that word. 

Close friendship. I didn’t know we were close. 

How many people at the base know? I have avoided talking to any of this because I don’t want their preconceived notions and their pity. Three people reached out in one day. I’m sure at least Dan knows, and that keeps me from vulnerability. Trevor leaves that place in less than a week, I can talk then. 

I stare at his activity status on facebook more than I care to admit. It takes more effort to not request friendship again than it should. 

I treat this like a breakup, and that is why I am here in the first place. Maybe it’s because relatable friendship breakup things are harder to find.

I want him to reach out, but he doesn’t. Of course. 

The bitterness towards Charlie is potent. However much this advice came from Dan, even more of it came from Charlie. I shouldn’t be bitter towards Charlie, when he was correct. 

Trevor tried so many times to say that it wasn’t my fault, but we both know that isn’t entirely true. I caught feelings for him, not the other way around. I fed into them. I concealed them. I relied on him, I pushed and pulled, and I ultimately brought about this end. 

If that conversation had been in person, I would have never recovered my dignity. I would have broken down next to him, and he would have comforted me even while sending me away. But maybe I would have been able to say more. 

I tried to delete this page. I couldn’t go through with it. 

It doesn’t need to be this way. Come back. Please. If you’re reading this, please. Please.

He says it’s not forever. But I don’t think we can ever truly be friends again, by his definition. 

Maybe I’m only writing this post because I hope to God that he reads it. 

I’ve been trying to pray for him, and I do, but it always ends with “bring him back”. 

The flashbacks are intense and pop up from the most random of things. 

I hate myself. 

No one reads this, right? I can say whatever I feel. 

I ruined the most important thing in my life, and I hate myself for it. I will never forgive myself. If I wasn’t such a baby to pain, I would have considered suicide more seriously than I do now. I am undeserving of friendships and good things, and my reaction to this only proves it. I bet Trevor never even shed a tear. Maybe he was a little sad for a day. I doubt he has spared a thought since.  I do not want to be alive. I know it will get better, but I am so desperate for the now to be over, that I would rather leave. 

Reading the Bible is doing me so much good, huh. 

I am pathetic.