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I had a good friend for... uhhh (mental math...) about thirteen years - our friendship existing mostly in letters because he lived out of state, but we wrote each other often beginning at the tender age of (I think) 12 and continuing on and off until our mid-20's. In his teens his life got pretty rough, beginning with his parents getting divorced and spiraling into heavy drug use.
I saw him again when we were 19, for a couple of weeks. He had changed - had a really fierce bitter side that didn't use to be there, and he seemed to alternate between idealizing and demonizing me... he really tried to press into me how effed up his life had gotten, but my attempts at empathy were rebuffed. I felt like I didn't like him anymore. And then a little ugly romantic triangle developed wherein he got rudely jilted....
Anyway (I'm trying to make this relatively brief), everything went downhill from there in our correspondence. At first we resolved the yucky love snafu. But his personal life was ever more chaotic. His letters to me also got haphazard - I had a hard time piecing together precisely what was happening to him because of gaps in time, half-references to events I didn't recall, at times seemingly conflicting reports. There was something about jail time, being framed, various drug addictions and recoveries, house arrest, halfway houses, some doctor diagnosing him as bipolar and paranoid schizophrenic and another theorizing that he'd just "done too many drugs"... v. confusing.
Over and over I tried to reach out, asking him to help me understand what he was going through, or admitting that I couldn't but would still be his friend. Then he started telling me he was in love with me, and I had to be truthful about my lack of similar feelings. He wrote me a threatening letter warning me that if I ever published any of his letters he would sue me. A couple years of silence passed. Eventually he wrote me a letter so completely wacked out... that he was a graphic designer but also a millionaire off his "stocks" and had no friends bc everyone only wanted his money, and I would never get to be with him and his $1,000,000,000,000,000 but he always loved me and so on and so forth. I thought about it for weeks, trying to decide whether to reply at all, and finally I decided I couldn't, I just had nothing left to say to this person. I didn't even know, at that point, whether he was truly shizophrenic or if perhaps it was all some elaborate revenge campaign against me for rejecting him romantically again and again.
It was really confusing to converse with someone whose reality was apparently constantly shifting - I never had any ground to stand on. Toward the end each letter was like square one, totally disconnected from anything else he'd written, and unrelated to anything I'd written him. I still feel kind of guilty for just cutting him off like that but I didn't know how to handle him. |
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