I haven't spoken with Frank since before Christmas. There have been a few morose moments but on the whole it's been OK.
I tried a few reach-outs, but I got nothing. I haven't done the situational analysis. I considered it, but it kind of boils down to "you behave like an ass", so I think it'd be ineffectual.
Since it was his decision I feel OK not pursuing it. If I were the one who cut him off I'd be writhing with guilt and remorse and rejection anxiety by now. I'd be turning myself inside out to, you know, mend our friendship.
It's a measure of how far I have come that Frank, and this abrupt cessation of contact, is nor occupying my every waking moment. Literally. Go back to the beginning of this blog if you want to see how bad things were. I couldn't resist contacting him even to save my marriage.
I get sad sometimes and angry others, but mostly I am just not thinking about Frank at all. Perhaps after I have finished Wheel of Time it'll all come crashing down. Who knows.
A thought that occurred to me yesterday was that because I was always patching things up, struggling to compromise between being a doormat and alienating Frank (and always ending up feeling rather thin, flat and stepped on), I created a sense of righteousness and entitlement in him. If someone always backs down it must be because she is always in the wrong, right?
Of course, he is not an idiot, and generally he is pretty introspective and thoughtful, and he did do the whole NVC thing, but I don't think that thoughtfulness really extended to me.
Those of us with intellectual envy have a tendency to divide the world into smart and stupid people, and while he didn't consider me stupid he did consider himself superior, especially when it came to "logic". If he couldn't see the logic of something it was because it was not there.
I am no intellectual giant, although I wish I were, but I am not particularly deferential or humble either. Especially not around Frank. In a way our whole friendship was an extended study in two wannabes trying to outsmart each other without being particularly knowledgable. I could be wrong, of course. He might have known what he was talking about. It's just that snarkiness doesn't exactly breed respect, and that snark went both ways.
In the end, maybe it was just as well. We rarely went two weeks without a major argument over something minor. I am no longer pacing the halls at work looking for walls to punch. So, that's something. Perhaps I'll plan a trip to Columbia with the travel guide I got him for Christmas. Perhaps I'll even go.