Confession

The first time I heard you were in the hospital, I cried. I self-absorbedly thought that you were there because of me. Not because of anything I had done mind you, but because there were things I hadn't. I hadn't been there enough for you, supported you, paid enough attention. I hadn't been there when you needed me, and hadn't been brave enough to say anything when I noticed strange things. I wanted to go to you, to be there, to help you through this. I wanted you to know that no matter what, you would always have me; I would always be there. 1

Maybe I put too much pressure on you as a friend. Maybe I just gave up. Because no matter how hard I tried, it felt that most of the time you were just pushing me away. And there was nothing I could do. You didn't return texts or emails, you didn't let me know you were okay. 2

And yes, I do know that is selfish of me. To expect or hope to be kept abreast of the happenings in your life. You were going through so much, maybe I expected too much in turn. Maybe you wanted to get through this in your own way. 3

The first time I heard you were in the hospital, I cried. I knew then that the friend I once knew was gone and there was a young woman in her place who needed my help. The first time I heard you were in the hospital I cried. I'm scared that the last time you are in the hospital I will cry again. And this time there will be no going to your side. Well there will be. But it won't be your bedside. It'll be your graveside.