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She finally spoke to me this week. She stopped by early before classes had started. She had been reading my letters after all, it seemed. She said that she believed me that this had been an accident, but that she still felt hurt, betrayed, and violated. She would probably never feel completely comfortable around me or ever be able to fully trust me again.
From past relationships, I know that I misunderstand or underestimate people’s emotions often. All along I’d been thinking that if she believed me, we could find some way to save our friendship. For the past month and a half, this belief had sustained my hope. I brought that point up somehow and she responded, “It’s not a matter of whether I believe you or not, it doesn’t change how this made me feel.”
The other important thing she said was that she needed me to respect her need for distance. Weeks of silence, telling me that she can’t trust me, and that she needs distance … all of that can only mean one thing. We’ll never be friends again. This final answer broke my heart for a third time. The first time had been the night her neighbor contacted me and I began to fathom the pain she must feel. The second time was a few days later, when I realized she didn’t trust/believe me enough to give me a chance to explain. And now this.
I thanked her for speaking to me. The silence had been agony. This wasn’t the outcome I had hoped for, but at least I now knew.

I never thought I could love a friend, but this pain is evidence that I do. This has been as painful and difficult as any romantic break-up, made worse by how suddenly and accidentally it came to be. I’ve never regretted a mistake as much as this one. Last weekend I actually prayed, that’s how desperate I was. I haven’t talked to God since my Confirmation when I was 16. I would do ANYTHING to correct this, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do.
So I keep carrying this pain around. In the week since we spoke, I feel that I have a bit of a handle on things. Slightly less emotional, but still utterly devastated. Since I can’t do anything to ease it, I try to distract myself from it. But nothing works. I haven’t touched alcohol this year; I’m afraid to drink when I’m this depressed. I’ve tried marathoning shows but can’t evade my thoughts; is this why people marathon Netflix, so they can ignore unhappiness in their life? I try to bury myself in work, but I just can’t bring myself to care about it anymore. I haven’t seen any of my friends since this happened. It would probably be good for me to spend time with them, but I know I’d be terrible company so I’ve kept to myself for the past month. I have no one to talk to about this. Not even my brother and sister-in-law care. When I told them about this outcome, I got zero response from them.
I can’t do anything for her. I can’t do anything for myself. I hate this unending helplessness.


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