I Miss My Soul Mate!
I met J 16 years ago in the smoker's lounge at work. He was a very handsome, very boyish looking, well dressed thirty-something young man who I fell instantly in love with. I knew it would be impossible to be anything but friends, because I was already in my mid-forties and I had a feeling he was unavailable and maybe more than that.
I soon learned he was gay. I was not at all surprised, and passed his test, and our friendship took off from there. I went to the library and checked out several books on the gay experience, growing up gay, and such, because I had never known any gay people and I didn't want to be an ignorant friend or say something stupid or hurtful. We quickly became closer at work, on breaks and when he moved to my side of town, my son and I started being invited to his home regularly.
When he trusted me enough he revealed he was HIV positive and as soon as I was alone, I cried in fear for his life. I immediately researched everything I could on HIV/AIDS and then asked J questions so I would know what to expect and how to be a good and informed friend. The years went by and he stayed healthy, so that concern sort of melted away.
But then S came into his life. And soon after that, J was sorry that S came into his life. He started complaining about S and how he wanted him to move out, but it never seemed to happen. J just got more and more unhappy. He started drinking more and more. He quit his job when things got tough at work with buyouts and layoffs and stress. He was an alcoholic by this time. After he quit, he got depressed. Still complaining and blaming S.
Then Wendy moved in next door. Then all I heard about was how wonderful Wendy was. How J and Wendy had gotten drunk together and how funny it was that they couldn't walk well enough to make it next door. Except that by now S was telling me how much J was drinking and how sick he was and how S was afraid for J's life. So I got scared too. And J just kept pulling away from me because he was having so much fun with Wendy and I kept trying to get him to quit drinking.
Then J told me he was throwing up blood. And he had decided to go into rehab. I was so relieved. I thought maybe there was hope after all. He didn't stay for the whole program, though, and started drinking within three days of coming home. He hid it for a while until I confronted him and he admitted that he was drinking. Wendy was the first one to openly offer him a drink. Then they went back to drinking together and getting drunk and the only time I ever saw J was when he was drunk.
He started putting me down and putting my son down and acting like he didn't want to see me anymore. For years he had been considered family to me. We celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas at his home, he called me his best friend and I certainly considered him mine. I'm not sure his level of feelings for me, but I loved him and still do, always will.
Then one night we were going over all the reasons he was unhappy again, all the same stuff, all the S issues, except this time he finally said that S wasn't the reason he drank. He said it was a pain that I wouldn't understand. We had so much in our years together, I had told him everything about my past and my abuse and all the pain I had endured, and he had shared so much with me back in the good times, that telling me this was a low blow. He hurt me to the core. It was if he had told me I was no longer worthy of his confidences. I was taking away my right to be his best friend in that one statement.
I told him that I had had enough, or something to that effect, packed up my stuff and stomped out. He tried to get me to stay, he really did, but I was mad, and I left mad. I'll regret that till the day I die. Because that was the beginning of the end. It all went downhill from there. He never called me after that. I ended up sending an email telling him he needed to make some changes and I wouldn't be around until he did, and I was very tough on him. I had never stood up to him before. I had been afraid to. But I was afraid for him to go on like that much longer and I was afraid our friendship was not going to survive if I only got to see him drunk and depressed.
I never saw him again. I apologized for doing the wrong thing and for everything, he never forgave me. As far as I know, he never quit drinking. He would never believe that I meant well. S had something to do with it I think. J referred to emails that contradicted each other, and even though he hated S for over 14 years, he chose to believe him over me. There were some further email fights, but never any real communication. He would never allow it. He believes the worst and whenever I tried to tell my side, he just accused me of lying.
Now he says if I send another email he will call the local Sheriff and turn me in for harassment. I called to see if he really can, and he can. So there's no hope. It's over. I've lost my best friend, my soul mate, my love, my family, my home away from home, my refuge, my place to go for the holidays, my place to go on Friday nights, my place for summer BBQs, my son used to call him on Father's Day, I used to hire him to help around the house, it helped me and him, every wall I see was painted by him, every blind was installed by him, we discussed world issues, plans for the future, we were gonna go the Jamaica some day.
I've lost all these things, he's taken them all from me and I want them back. And because he doesn't believe in me anymore, I'm not sure I can either. His respect meant everything to me. He used to be proud of me and I don't know how I lost that. I've been condemned without a trial. And I have to drive by his street, where I can see his house, several times a week. We live that close. It's so hard when he's so close.
How am I supposed to get over him when he's never going to go away? He'll be right there taunting me every time I drive by. So close and unreachable. I just miss him so much. I miss his voice and his smell and his hugs that were so dear. I miss being welcomed into his home. He used to meet me in the hall entryway with a hug.
It's been a year and a half since I walked out. And only a day or two since he last threatened me with the Sheriff. I woke up crying again this morning, sorry I had to face another day. I cry myself to sleep at night. I cry most of the time I'm alone. Sometimes I'll be fine, then I'll see a license plate that makes me think of a joke that I think Jamie would have thought was funny, and then I'll be crying again.
I know I'm obsessing, but I can't seem to stop. No one understands anymore.