It seems like most of the people I went to high school with have become a raging alt-right conservative. For some people this doesn’t surprise me, but in a few instances I never thought they would swing that way. I grew up in a small town in California where the political climate is more like the southern states than elsewhere in the state. Most everyone I see on Fakebook is all “guns, Jesus, and Trump”, not necessarily in that order. I’m sure some of my former friends supported the mob at the Capitol.
I’ve heard that people naturally grow more conservative as they get older, but it certainly did not work out that way for me. When I was a kid I grew up around and went to church with mostly-conservative older people. During college I started expanding my attitudes a little bit, and studied what conservatism was all about (at that seemingly innocent time). I didn’t like the right-leaning philosophy very much, and started moving away from that way of thinking throughout my late 20s. Since that time, and especially since my diagnosis with bipolar 15 years ago, I have become increasingly liberal while the conservatives have become increasingly radicalized. I have reached the point where I would rather vote for dead people than for a Republican.
As far as my high school friends, they can take their “god, guns, and country” posts and stick ‘em. I don’t go to Fakebook anymore because I got tired of looking at those posts. There aren’t enough cats there to make me go back.
Lisa visited me again last night. Of all the people I’ve ever met, she is the one who appears in my dreams most often. Sometimes as a friend, sometimes as a lover, sometimes as someone else’s lover, but always with that brilliant, genuine smile that lights up the room and makes you feel like you are the most important person in her world.
During our friendship she saved me from my dark places, she saved Christmas for me, and on one occasion maybe saved me from hurting myself (though she never knew it). She was the most emotionally well-adjusted person I knew, but she had her problems too, and I was there for her to cry on my shoulder. She was the first person I ever truly loved, but we never officially became a couple because she said it would ruin the relationship. She was probably right, but at the time I would have followed her anywhere had she wanted me to.
We remained in contact for several years after I got married, and we even visited each other a couple of times. Then my bipolar started raging again, and my e-mails and messages got increasingly neurotic. It scared her away, and she said she couldn’t continue down that path. We drifted apart, like so many friendships do. It would be difficult to be friends again without saying or doing something stupid that would make her uncomfortable.
Out of all the people I’ve discarded and relationships I’ve let slip away, this is the one that hurts. I remember what we had in 1989, but I can’t seem to let that go. I couldn’t go to her wedding, and I can’t go to reunions because I would see her there. I’m afraid to write to her because I don’t know if she would be interested in what I have to say anymore.
We are friends on Fakebook, but we don’t interact with each other. How sad is that? I would have spent a lifetime with her, and now we have the ability to catch up on things but never do. I don’t know what her thinking is, but maybe she believes that I would just cause chaos that she doesn’t want. She’s probably right, as usual.
We said good bye to Max today. He had been getting progressively sicker for the past few weeks, and we decided it was time to let him go. He went to rest in Nicole’s arms at the vet. We brought him home and buried him in the woods behind the house.
Max loved his people, and we loved him in return. He and the kids grew up together, so they have many special memories of him. We were all sad, but we will remember all the good times we had with him.
Max survived a lot during his nearly 15 years, including the move from California, the cricket swarm, the white cat next door, and several injuries. He lived a full life, and I am honored to have shared it with him.
Good bye, Max.