Different Strings

Lately I've thought often about some of the friends I don't hear from anymore. For some of them I feel resentment, indignation, confusion...but for all of them, there's an empty place where they used to be. Charles, Taylor, some people from the two places where I went to college. I try to rationalize why we no longer communicate. Does that make them bad friends? Am I a bad friend for not calling or texting them? Maybe. There's no real way to tell.

I'm afraid our culture has made it too easy to move on and leave people behind. I'm definitely guilty of doing that myself. It's kind of funny how I spend more time on trying to understand (or convince myself) of why I don't ever hear from them than on trying to contact them myself.

But here's the problem with that: I've already tried doing that. I extended an open hand for months, even a year after I moved out here. Only David and Scott stay in contact. So then the questions bounce around in my mind--

Did I say something wrong? How did I mess up this time? Am I no longer interesting? Should I just try again? 
 
It almost always ends up like this: I text or call a couple of times, maybe get lucky enough to have an actual conversation. And then we make somewhat vague promises to stay in contact, maybe call again in a few weeks. I wait. And wait. Weeks and months and eventually years go by and nothing. So then I begin to assume that they forgot. Some more time goes by and then that thought changes to they no longer care. 

I can understand getting busy. Relationships and jobs tend to eclipse most other cares in life. We've been out of college for a few years now. We have bills, rent, debt, family obligations (or we're studiously avoiding them so we can attend to the aforementioned items), and so on. So then I think about the depth and meaning of friendships I've made. I'm not the type to have dozens of friends. I pick a few really good, truly good people who pass my shit-test and try to stick with them as long as I possibly can. Lalita and I have known each other for almost eight years. Scott's been around for ten and David for fourteen years. Even Andrew, who's been around for even longer than they have, seventeen years, still sends me a Steam message sometimes. He and I talked about the merits of Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask just a couple of months ago.

So then the question of whether the silent ones care anymore materializes again.

Jane defenestrated me because my coming out as poly very likely scared her. Normal, boring-ass people who cling desperately to the majority societal norms tend to run away screaming from anything that has the barest whiff of difference about it. So that one's blatantly obvious.

Charles stopped bothering talking to me because he thought that I was making another mistake in moving out here to live with Lalita. To him and his wife (my first-ever ex--awkward), I am a crazy, desperate serial monogamist. Note that I have to be a monogamist to them, because of course, the truth is too weird and uncomfortable to bear. So I haven't heard from them in years. Charles and I were friends from sixth grade up until when I moved. When he didn't support me in my decision, he betrayed his lack of faith and exposed his misunderstanding. I guess that's how friendships end.

What happened to our innocence?
Did it go out of style?
Along with our naievete
No longer a child

Different eyes see different things
Different hearts beat on different strings

It's funny how tradition separates people. Is it because of a need to feel some kind of superiority? Do religion and political ideology afford you that? I guess they would have to suffice so that they can quiet the reverberating emptiness that yawns inside. Neoliberalism has only exacerbated these trends.

Anything that contradicts, anything that sticks out, anything that causes you to squirm must be dealt with. Removed. Expunged. Forgotten. So I guess that means love isn't strong enough to overcome that for them after all.

Too much fuss and bother
Too much contradiction
And confusion

Peel away the mystery
Here's a clue to some real motivation.

A few months ago the poly discussion group I attend sometimes introduced me to the idea of relationship anarchy. It's supposed to do away with traditional relationship norms, like the relationship escalator, labels, expectations, that sort of thing, in favor of allowing space for people to agree on something better befitting how they feel about each other. I love this idea because it releases the fetters of hierarchical polyamory and expectations that burden people in these situations.

There was especially mention of the types of relationships where parties don't stay in regular contact. Of course, the first people I thought of were Julie and Taylor. I still love them, but I almost never hear from them. I say almost because Julie actually texted me this morning. Taylor has remained silent for more than a year.

Sometimes I wish my memory wasn't so good. I wish I could forget stuff like this.

If I'm to try to live according to my values, which include the paradigm of relationship anarchy, should I accept the dynamic between me and those I never hear from as normal? Isn't this supposed to be a two-way street? Or should I be the "better person" and leave the door open for them?

Maybe the answer lies somewhere in between those ideas.

Or maybe it's just time to grow up.

All the same, it still hurts either way.

I found the pieces in my hand
They were always there
It just took some time for me to understand
You gave me words I just can't say
So if nothing else
I'll just hold on while you drift away

The cities grow
The rivers flow
Where you are I'll never know
But I'm still here