(no subject)

Sitting here, logged into AIM and waiting to see if Thee Pumpkin Girl pokes her head in, as I need to speak with her and she's not answering her phone (we played phone tag today). I log into AIM so very rarely any more, almost to the point of never. The other night I was on and talking to an enormous amount of people who hopped on me the second I showed my face, which made me remember how difficult it is to carry on several conversations at once. I do prefer it to speaking to people on the phone. For one thing, one may eat potato chips and chat online without rudely crunching in their companion's ear.

Tonight, I'm sitting here and waiting. At one point, I checked to see if she had logged in (I heard the member signing on chime) and saw that the name of someone from my not-very-distant past was floating there in front of me.

This was someone who used to be a close friend of mine. We met at my first mortgage company job and swiftly became friends. She was good to talk to on smoke breaks and during lunch, over time we grew closer. Hell, she even introduced me to the Engineer and the pagan group he runs (and which I've been a member of for quite some time). Mutual family functions were attended, gifts were exchanged for birthdays and major holidays. You know the drill of close friendship.

She was older than me, with three children all in their teens, and we frequently had very different viewpoints, not to mention completely differing goals in life. My life was really just starting to get up to speed and hers was cruising on the plateau of middle age. It was nice, like I had an older sister (all I have are brothers). At the time, the only other female influence in my life (that was significantly older than me) was my mother, and she was automatically predisposed to me, being my mother and all.

For reasons unknown, our relationship suffered a quiet death, something I've always been at odds with. Especially after my mother died. This friend knew my mother had cancer, knew the all about the struggle and was also friends with her. After my friend and I stopped speaking, they still emailed back and forth.

But no calls came to the apartment when my mother stopped replying.

I am, at turns, angry and sad about how our relationship ended. Sad because I kind of miss my friend from time to time, I miss the sister-type of rapport we had. And angry because she abandoned me. She never once attempted to contact me after my mother's emails ceased, even just to see if everything was ok.

Thusly, she has no idea of my mother's death in November, unless someone else told her.

Occasionally, pangs of guilt gnaw at me over this. There were only three people I deliberately did not contact upon my mother dying, she being one of them. The other two are complete wastes of human skin and they brook no feelings from me, but contempt and utter disdain (one of them actually had the balls to show up at the funeral and even try to hug me, she eventually got the message when all she received in greeting was a complete stiffening of my body and the verbalizing of her name).

This one, however, I see her name online and wonder how easy it would be to message her. To see what she had to say in response to me, to hear what excuses she came up with.

I wonder briefly, then close down AIM.

That chapter of my life is finished and put away on a shelf.
It's not something I care to re-read.

Not without some small measure of pain, because it does hurt, but put away all the same.