Thursday, December 15, 2005

A Break

I did it. I called P. and told him I needed a break. His reaction was somewhat panicked: How long will the break be? Do you still love me? I hope the break only lasts two weeks! And somewhat manipulative: I tried to do everything right!

It didn't seem fair to leave him with the impression that he'd blown it, so I spent some time with him on the phone assuring him that it's not a question of wrong and right, and that I know his intentions are always good. He and I have been friends for 15 or so years, and got along beautifully all the years when we just talked now and then on the phone. Then he had a heart attack and a stroke and was moved to an old folks' home near where I live. I was horrified at all he'd lost, including his primary relationship and even his cat, and, about a year ago, began spending way too much time with him, trying, fruitlessly, to assuage his anxiety and have a bit of fun. And at first we did have fun, but then it became a morass of anxiety and need, on his part, and resentment and obligation, on my part. (Before it became awful, he made an enormous number of hilarious remarks that perhaps I'll post here.)


So I was talking to him about needing a break and reassuring him as best I could (probably to zero effect, ultimately) and then I suddenly realized that I was starting to feel really lousy. "You are a bad person," something in my head was saying to me. "For shame! Abandoning this poor old man." (He does have other friends, and relatives who are very devoted.) And then I realized it was time to get off the phone before I felt like jumping off the bridge, so I gently said I had to go.

Now I see the trick is going to be actually taking the break, now that I've announced it, because I do feel guilty, and can picture myself running over there soon to have another dispiriting outing.

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