The doctor is no longer present
(goodbye lines for a misunderstood friendship)
You will never hear from me again.
Listening to your normal voice has been clarifying.
Your quite and as usual full with justifications voice.
Your typical complaining voice, belonging to somebody that, as soon as he reforms, comes back doing what he can do at his best: to love solely himself.
Last time we talked, the new year was learning to walk like a kid.
They have given me a bad news, another failure.
Besides my resistance to show my frailties, I imagined you to call me back asking how I was going, doing, feeling.
It has been passed two months. No phone calls. No texts. Silence.
But, how you said at the phone, your Saturdays are no more devoted to housewives issues and you did not need my voice to stay with you, giving you advice and trashing out all that we can to sustain you, to motivate you, to be there for you.
And now, at the phone, now that I’m calling you, your voice can’t be anything that formal and embarrassed. And in this articulation — you said hello — without knowing it was me — you are able to say nothing but you do not to have any longer your cleaning on Saturday and I could call you, no matter what.
Here, you did understand nothing
I got it.
So that you will never hear from me again.
I’m sorry for me, not for you because you belong to that kind of people that, with no offence, hurt people. The same way you did with my feelings. You did it without thinking. You just gave my presence for granted.
I think I was wrong, too.
More than a friend, my presence, in that emotional safe your life is, has been a shrink session extra. Because you knew you could count on a reference person (me), on the right words that, even if awkward, were reaching your soul. And I think this was the problem. Because when you are in your shrink session, you are not scared for being naked, but with a friend your nakedness is a different kettle of fish, right? Do you know why? Because being meant at such a point of intimacy by a friend, means giving power to another person with no PHD in psychiatry, means you are at the mercy of a stranger.
Now you do not need it any more. You are independent. You work. You know your time is worthy.
You are worthy.
You know how to dedicate time for you because you are tired. And nobody dares doubting the truth of your feelings, me neither.
Simply you will not hear from me a word any more. You do not need it.
I allowed you to take what you could from me and you started again, alone. So that you gave me a clear sign of the drawer your mind put me in: a kind of SOS buzz for emergency only. There was a time when you press it and I was there. I did it with any change of heart because I did not back off in front of a wounded soul. But I understood that in your process of getting down in your soul you were just self-referential. You showed it with the tone of your voice at the phone, when, after a long hesitation, I called you.
You probably heard my cutting it short. Well.
You probably heard my disappoint. Well.
You probably heard my concise and polite answers. Well. I do not have fear of the stage.
I hope your journey will keep going well. Because now you realize how to do that.
You took what you could to survive and to keep living by your own.
I did well non to open up as much as I would like to, my heart to you. I knew it. And as for those essential things I shared with you, I was happy to do that because I have not to defend myself from other persons. I trust people. Still.
So I knew it and I am sorry because you, rightly, have gone ahead, you have overcome something, believing doing this alone and you left me behind, as an old pairs of shoes.
Maybe I did not truly realize you need your space, your time and blah, blah, blah…
Here you are. You got what you want. You will never hear from me again.
