You won’t read this because you don’t go on the computer and stay away from social media. That’s ok I’m writing it anyway.
I met you when we were 12 years old. I remember we had to get shots for school or something, our mother’s were talking but we weren’t. I remember thinking how pretty you were and how you must have a lot of friends. We did start talking and it turned out you didn’t have a lot of friends. We shared the same strange sense of humor, liked horror movies and the same music. The music turned out to be Judas Priest, Motley Crue, Kiss, and all the band’s from that time. We worshiped them. It was just you and me against the world. Even though I have a twin sister I was closer to you. You understood me.
At 17 we hooked up with an older crowd of guys. This did neither of us any good. You could handle it, I could not. At times you were so oblivious to what was really going on it was frustrating. When I tried to tell you some of it a few years ago you had doubts. If there is one thing a person with Bipolar is good for it’s remembering the bad stuff. There were times I physically had to get between you and a group of guys because you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings. They would try to literally grab you. You didn’t even notice. I would step in and take care of it. There was a time a girl was looking for you at a party. She had a gun in her purse and was pissed you were dating her ex. Someone pointed me out to her and said “that’s her bodyguard you might want to rethink things”. She left really fast. I punched one of your boyfriends in the face when I found out he had hit you. I did these things because you never judged me and always loved me no matter what.
As we grew older things changed. My drinking was out of control. I started to notice a few things I didn’t like. You had a new boyfriend but refused to tell the old one that things were definitely over. I liked the new one. He’s kind, generous and thoughtful. He was living with you and I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell the other one the truth. So in my drunken obnoxious state I did. You were furious. It was our first fight in 20 years. You told me what right did I have getting involved when I’ve never even had a boyfriend or been in love. This broke me. Her boyfriend could see that and made her stop. He said ” can’t you see what you are doing to her? That’s enough!”. One of the few people to ever speak up for me. The next morning she crawled into my bed crying and said how sorry she was. The damage was already done.
Not long after that I was diagnosed Bipolar and quit drinking. I think you resented the fact that I wasn’t working. You were tired of the drama. You were part of a couple and I wasn’t. Alcohol was always around. When I did come over I talked more to the boyfriend than you. I realized we didn’t have much in common anymore. You don’t watch tv or movies, you don’t care about clothes, hair or make-up. You do care about cleaning and your yard. You don’t want to hear any bad news or anything negative because you get enough of that “at your job”. You’re a mail carrier not a bartender or a shrink so I don’t know why you’re hearing everyone’s problems at work. The last time I saw you it killed me. You rolled your eyes as I pulled up. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid. This was a month ago and I haven’t talked to you yet.
All of this hurts me. But I understand. It isn’t easy being around me. I don’t want to be around me. This is the hand I was dealt so I’m doing the best I can to keep my head above water. It isn’t easy I have to look for a reason everyday. There are days I can’t find one and those are the hardest. The isolation. I wish you knew the price I have paid to try to get better. Sometimes the price is too high, people ask too much of me. I am a burden and I know this. I also know I love you and we had some good years out of the 30 we’ve known each other. I don’t blame you or anyone else that choses not to be in my life anymore. It’s ok I will carry on.