Writers Workshop: "You always hurt the ones you love..."

Welcome, Kittens, to another session of Writers Workshop, brought to you by Mama Kat.

This week, I'm writing about this:
"Tell about a time that you hurt somebody that still bothers you to this day."

I'm giving this prompt a twist: You see, I don't know if I really hurt this person. I haven't seen her in eight years, and haven't spoken to her in almost five.

That person was once my best friend.

I was a bridesmaid in her wedding.

I haven't seen her since her wedding day.

We met in college. We were casual friends at first, but during our junior year, we were both hurt by the same group of people, and became very close. Some would even say we were like sisters.

The two of us hung out with another guy, the guy who remains my best friend to this very day (and is frequently mentioned in this blog). The three of us made a happy little trio, and we were very, very tight.

Towards the end of senior year, however, we had a fight, and it looked as if the three of us were going to end our friendships. BFF #1, whom we'll refer to as P, broke up with her longtime boyfriend and was dealing with the fallout with that--dating guys she normally wouldn't date, hanging out with people she normally wouldn't spend time with. BFF #2, whom we'll refer to as K, was acting very secretive around the two of us, and he would often leave campus without telling us where he was going and what he was doing.

My BFFs bonded over their mutual troubles--and left me out in the cold.

It felt awful, and to this day, my college graduation is still somewhat bittersweet because of the events that had unfolded.

Time, however, healed our wounds. Six months after graduation, K called and we talked for two hours. Long story short, K came out of the closet, and he was dealing with the fallout amongst his family, as well as his friends. We still had a lot of healing to do, and it took several years for us to completely repair our friendship. Several weeks after that, P called, and we resumed our friendship.

(NOTE: I may or may not write more about my friendship with K in the future. He knows I have a blog, but he's never read it. I don't want to talk about it in depth or very personally without having his permission first. From here on, though, I'm going to talk about P).

Anyway, P lived in another state, and we weren't able to see each other often. Between the time we graduated and the time she got engaged, we saw each other twice. During wedding plans, however, we saw each other much more frequently, and we were on the phone a lot--often for three hours at a time. I heard about all of the arguments she had with her family over wedding plans, all of the first details about the dress, the honeymoon plans--I heard everything. And when I was asked to be a bridesmaid, well, I thought that bonded us forever.

But it didn't.

While P was making her wedding plans, excited about the celebration she was about to have, I was a poor grad school student scraping to get by. I was taking a full-time course load, working full-time, and searching for permanent jobs for the following school year. I was fried, busy, and did I mention, poor? This should be a moot point, but at the time, it wasn't. P and her fiance had an income, an apartment, and were being given stuff, through their registry, for their new home. And here I was, a single person, barely making enough money to buy a coffee maker for my apartment.

She had a bridal shower where she got four toaster ovens. She got all her stuff for free.

I had to go buy all my appliances. I didn't have a horde of people helping me start my new life.

I started to feel bitter. I still regret feeling this way. I knew I had to be happy for my friend, and I put on a smile at that damn shower. It was very difficult, though, but not just for the material gifts. During the final months before the wedding, we had less and less to talk about. We were both embarking on different stages of our lives: she as a new wife, me moving out of my parents' house and onto my career. We just didn't have as much in common. We were both stressed out for entirely different reasons. At times, we took it out on each other.

P married in July of 2001. I moved out of my parents' house a week later. I'm glad the timing was this way, because it didn't give me any time to brood.

P and I talked on the phone every couple of months for about two or three years after she married. And then, suddenly, she stopped responding to my E-mails. She stopped calling.

I don't know what I did, if I did anything, but the fact that she never responded to the last Christmas card I sent her really saddens me.

I know where she works, but I don't know where she's living. I don't even know if she's still married. I've tried finding her on Facebook, to no avail, but I seriously doubt that P would be a Facebooker. I think the ball's in P's court now. I still have the same address that I had five years ago, I'm on our college alumni network, she knows where and how to find me. Hell, my parents still live in the same house as I did when I was in college, so she can always call my rents if she doesn't have my contact info.

I'm just so sad that I don't know why she decided not to talk to me anymore. What did I do? What did I say? Did I even do or say anything to upset her?

I would just like to talk to her one more time, just one more, to have some closure. Just a chance to say goodbye.

I don't think that will ever happen, though.