Afterimage

You never talk to me anymore.

We used to be close to each other.  We shared a lot of the same friends, we did things together online, like movie and tv show watchalongs.  I shared a lot of myself to you long before I had the courage to come out to the rest of the world.

And then, you were gone.

I remember 
How we talked and drank into the misty dawn
I hear the voices

I could see you, of course...out on the periphery, doing your thing.  I don't know what happened.  Was it something I said, or did, or did we just...grow in separate directions?  I thought certain things might bridge some of that distance...and it did, for a few days, before you gradually shifted away again, to that orbit far enough away that your presence became little more than faint ripples on an otherwise still pond.

And I don't know why.  I tried reaching out, repeatedly, but...

One of my faults is that I want to know why about everything.  I want to try and understand everything, and even though I know it is not realistic to think I could possibly know everything, there is a part of me that longs to.  And I want to know why.  I don't know if or that it would change anything...and it is not the kind of question one casually tosses as an opener to communication with someone who barely seems to acknowledge your presence, or their presence in your life.

As I write this it's 10:43 PM on 2 November 2015.  I've been listening to Time by Hans Zimmer for an hour and 8 minutes straight.  It's become a kind of mantra or koan that I am resonating to.  I've been considering the things in my life that hurt...

the loss of my BFF
a friend who is inpatiented right now because they reached a point where it was necessary
a friend who is having problems with their soon to be ex
a friend who is dealing with long term effects from a catastrophic injury
the keeper of my heart, going through their own hardships and me unable to aid at this point properly

I'm overwhelmed...and that's not even getting into the baseline things like my depression, PTSD, anxiety, dysphoria.  Nor is it adding in the things that I fight against, like transmisogyny, transphobia, racism against blacks/First People/Asians of any ancestry/Latino/Latina, the stupidity of men's rights activists, white genocide believers, TERFs, and so on.

And in the midst of this maelstrom, I wonder about a friend.

And why you don't talk to me anymore.