― John Green
Close but Apart
I don’t know what the hell’s going on except that after a five-year friendship, Megan won’t talk to me.
I recall the day six months ago when she telephoned. She said she needed some time alone to do some soul searching. The next day, she emailed me and said she "valued our friendship and would be in touch when I’m ready."
I wrote back and said I’d give her time and space and I’d always be there for her—but to this day she hasn’t gotten back to me and I’m in a quandary.
“I just don’t know what to do Kath.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Mark—Megan has a total right to decide who she wants as a friend and I think she’s made some healthy boundary choices.”
“Healthy?” I fumed, “Are you implying I’m toxic?”
“Nothing of the sort. Maybe you two were co-dependent—you’ve been together for so long without actually going out—maybe it’s an enablement issue.”
Kath, as you might have guessed, is a social worker—she means well, but her jargon drives me crazy.
“Argh! I feel like I’m chasing the tail of my own mind. Do you know how many times I’ve sat and done my own soul searching—wondering what I might have said or done to offend her? Healthy? Give me a break. If this is how healthy people treat their friends, I don’t want anything to do with anyone.”
“So, you’d be better off as a hermit?”
“There you go again, Kath—taking my emoting to an illogical extreme. I’m hurt for god’s sakes—don’t you get that?”
“Oh, I get it—but, face it, Mark—you can be overbearing. Maybe you have control issues.”
I raise my hands in mock surrender. “Okay, Madame Prosecutor, I give up. I am heartily sorry for having offended—please don’t give me the lash.”
“I kind of think you’d enjoy that actually—you have a streak of masochism in you. That’s why you gravitate to strong women like Megan and me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Check your Wonder Woman suit next time at the door.”
She gets up in a huff, “Consider yourself lucky if there is a next time, guy.”
“Hey, Kath—I was just kidding.” But she was out the door, leaving me stewing in my juices and wondering if I had suddenly developed some weird social phobia causing me to subconsciously push people away.
I can’t do this—can't keep taking my mental temperature when I’m not doing anything wrong.
But my positive affirmations aren’t working, and I feel miserable and confused.
When I feel anxious and upset I always retreat into the common sense of Lao-Tzu or Confucius and see what they have to say about my situation. I’m a little remote from emotion. I guess I’m a typical closet intellectual by nature and prone to introspection—anything that’s the least bit murky or ill defined in interpersonal relations can throw me into a tailspin.
So, armed with my books, I retreat to my study—turn off the phones, put away my laptop and try to self-soothe by sitting by the fire and imbibing the Masters’ wisdom.
First, I turn to Lao-Tzu—he always comforts me. Sure enough, after a few minutes of reading the Tao Te Ching I found myself beginning to relax.
Things that belong together don’t need to be tied, the old sage advises me.
It’s good advice. Why should I sweat it? If Megan honestly doesn’t want to spend time with me, then that’s her prerogative. We aren’t married—not even dating.
Besides, Lao-Tzu teaches all straining and striving goes against the natural order of things. I should just go with the flow and accept whatever happens.
Still, I am missing Megan—her morning phone calls, our lunches shared each day at different cafés—I even miss her nagging me about meeting my publisher’s deadlines. Life without Megan is certainly rough.
I open the Analects of Confucius and begin reading. I’m reminded about the concept of Li—doing the proper thing at the proper time. But what is the right thing to do under these circumstances? I have no idea.
I’m back at square one, miserable and lonely.
Damn it, I miss Megan—what the hell is she trying to prove? I trusted her and gave her some space, believing what the old Master said—it’s more shameful to distrust our friends than to be deceived by them.
But now my mind is whirling and I have no peace.
Besides, I’m justly angry. How could Megan treat me like this? I resolve to see her and straighten things out—whether she wants to see me or not.
Megan and I have a strange relationship. She’s my book shepherd. A few years back, I decided I needed some help with keeping track of appointments, meeting deadlines, answering correspondence and a zillion other chores that were just overwhelming me—hence, enter Megan Chartwell, ex-intake editor for Oxford Press and now my very own personal assistant.
Well, she’d kill me if she heard me refer to her as that, but that’s what she is.
We hit it off right from the start and soon the publishing offers were coming in and our professional relationship was becoming successful and lucrative. But slowly things began to change, until six months ago when it all hit the fan and now Megan is out of my life—seemingly overnight.
I’m determined to get to the bottom of it and so, decide to go straight to her condo and confront her. I rang the doorbell for ten minutes before deciding if she's home, she isn’t answering.
Still, I don’t want to give up and leave.
I grab a coffee at one of the bistros we used to frequent and was about to leave, when I spot her with another guy. It feels like I have just been kicked in the gut.
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I surreptitiously watch their little tête-à-tête over lattes and then shadow them home to Megan’s apartment. I wait for hours, but he never leaves. For all I know, he’s spending the night.
Next day finds me pounding on her door, expecting her to be shocked when she she’s me, but I was totally unprepared for her response.
“Hey there, stranger! How have you been?”
I’m convinced she’s lost her mind.
“What do you mean calling me a stranger? You’re the one who decided you needed a break from me.”
“Mark, please don’t create a scene in the hallway—Come in.”
“Create a scene—Have you lost your mind? You’re the one who’s acting weird.”
“Can you lower your voice? I don’t want to disturb the neighbours.”
“To hell with the bloody neighbours. What kind of a game are you playing?”
She looks perplexed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you with that other guy in the bistro yesterday—I know he spent the night.”
“Oh, are you stalking me now?”
“No, I’m not stalking you. I dropped by to see you and you weren’t home and I happened to see you in the bistro.”
“Yes, and then you followed us home and obviously spent hours waiting outside my condo. How could you do that, Mark?”
I push through the door and wearily sit down on her sofa. Whiskers her cat, leaps into my lap and begins licking my face. I keep pushing her off and she keeps coming back—kinda like me in a way.
“Bloody hell—what’s the matter with this animal?”
“She’s obviously missed you—you haven’t been around for months.”
“Am I going crazy, or are trying to drive me insane?”
“I can see you haven’t missed me—you didn’t even bother to call—so, I’ve moved on.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why?”
I sigh. “You can’t do that because I have missed you—I guess it took something like this to show me how much I really do care about you, Megan.”
“Care—as in you missed my help—my assistance?”
“Care—as in I love you—there, I said it now. I’ve made a complete fool of myself.”
The next thing I know, her arms are around me and she’s kissing me passionately.
“Oh Mark—you’re such a fool. Don’t you realize I just wanted you to show your true feelings for me?”
“Didn’t I show you that before?”
“No, you idiot—you always had your head buried in a book and took me for granted. I didn’t want you to treat me like part of the furniture. I wanted you to be passionate. But you were always blissed out following your ancient Masters and completely ignoring me.”
“So, you slept with another guy to teach me a lesson?”
She smiled, “That other guy’s my brother—he was in town for the night and slept here before heading back to Boston.”
I feel totally stupid, but relieved.
Lesson Learned, I muse inwardly.
I guess what Lao-Tzu said about romance was true: Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
I finally was able to tell Megan how I really cared about her…
And one thing I know for certain—I’ll never again doubt her feelings for me.
Thank you!