A Curious Phenomenon

From my old blog, courtesy The Wayback Machine:

I have been blogging for close to two years now. What I've noticed during that time is while I've made new friends through the endeavor, several of my long-time fellow travelers in life's journey have drifted away. One of whom in particular—a guy I've known nearly a quarter century—has all but vanished, and I'm starting to wonder if it's because of something I've written along the way. Blogging's semi-anonymity has allowed me to voice thoughts that even my closest confidants may not have known I was mulling.

This raises a fundamental question. Isn't it better to have people love you for who you really are, other than for who they think you are?

While not nearly as political as I am, I know my buddy has no love for George Bush, so I doubt that's the source of his withdrawl. The only other thing that may have caused this apparent chilling of our friendship are the writings about my increasing agnosticism. He's not a religious guy, but a very spiritually oriented one; something that initially drew us together and that we'd shared these many years. I still respect his New Age beliefs, but at this point in my life I'm just finding it impossible to ascribe to a philosophy that's become as rigid and entrenched as any other faith-based doctrine and offers no more proof of its validity than the fairy tales of traditional organized religion.

Before I started blogging, we'd chat or email each other several times a week, and I always felt welcome visiting. But over the last year or so (along with my posts examining my crumbling faith in New Age thought), all my emails seem to vanish into a black hole, never to be answered. (His excuse is that he gets so much spam he doesn't even bother opening his email, despite my attempts to show him how to filter it out at his ISP before it ever reaches Outlook). So I've just given up emailing him altogether. At some point you just reach the point where you think, "Why bother?"

I no longer feel like I can just call and come down for the weekend like I'd been doing for years. It seems he always has houseguests, or previous plans, or the planets aren't in proper alignment. The last time I was in the neighborhood, the ex and I just dropped in on him (we did call first), and neither of us exactly got the warm fuzzies while we were there. And don't get me started on him coming here. It's been over a year and a half since he's been up to Phoenix. His excuse is that his back bothers him. It's not like going to San Francisco, for Chrissake.

So I'm kind of at a loss. I have a feeling he's dealing with some demons of his own, but he hasn't shared any of it with me, and when I've asked if everything was okay he said it was. I'm not losing sleep over it, but it concerns me that a friendship I thought I would take to the grave with me may be coming to an end after having survived and flourished nearly twenty-five years.

Amazingly, nothing has changed with this particular friend since I wrote this eight years ago. During the years Ben and I were in Denver, my friend and I spoke once on the phone—and I was the one who initiated the call.

Still, I've kept him up to date via a change of address card regarding our return to Phoenix, and have thought many times about calling him, but as I wrote initially, I'm really starting to wonder, "Why bother?"

4 Replies to “A Curious Phenomenon”

  1. It is sad seeing people diminish and disappear in the rearview mirror. Keep in mind this is because you are going forward and they are not. It is sad but it happens.

  2. As I have grown older, and I believe wiser, I know that we all change, and who we were twenty five years ago is not the same person we are today. This is just the way I see it. Well, enough of that. If you and Ben ever want to knock on our door you are welcome any time.

  3. I can tell you from personal experience, some people, as they get older, disengage from life.

  4. I can both empathize and sympathize. It is difficult to watch, or be aware of, a friendship deteriorate, whether it's sudden, rapid or drawn out process. Unlike you, I once fell into great frustration, depression, anger or hurt when such things happened. Now, more like you, I react much less intensely, wonder about it, but mostly take the "why bother" attitude. Relationships are not solo acts….when you realize you're the only one standing on the stage, it's time to gracefully take a bow, close the curtain, and exit, stage left.

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