Pity and Loathing in Utah

I have taken today to really take stock of my life. I looked back, unsheltered, from all of the various comings and goings, thankful not only for the journey, but for the many, many lessons I have learned. Drinking my coffee and eating my Gingerbread Biscotti, I happened to be downloading claims from the mainframe, and browsing like I always do (since I can't do anything else) and came across a website of someone I once cherished as an old friend. I had let go of a lot of betrayal, loathing and anger when it came to this person, but reading the lines of this website evoked a new, strange sensation - pity.

As the words filtered through the computer screen, I witnessed the transformation from a strong, independant woman, full of self-esteem and beauty, into a hollow shell of a woman literally begging for self-and-others' approval through changing her body. What she doesn't realize is that even after she changes, she will still be a hollow shell because of her own distructive forces. She claims to have moved on with her life, and in the same breath, she visits the thorns of her past relationships - relationships she lied through, connived around and ultimately destroyed - because, as she laments, the simple fact remains that we were good friends to her and it's easier to hate us than truly miss the friendships she torpedoed.

Her website was an interesting read, however, but it seems to me that, although she states how happy she is with the small group she now encircles, she continually cries out for friends, someone to talk with and share the day-to-day with. And she continues, even recently, to talk about the "dysfunctional" portion of her life - the one where I was involved.

Now, in all fairness, I will submit I had a hand in the distruction of our friendship. I take the blame for a lot of things, but certianly not the numerous list she seems to still live by. That's her choice.

But I was a good friend. I still am a good friend - to those who know me best, and know I won't feed them bullshit and will be there for them at a moment's notice; that has been proved time and time again. The "Looney Tune" gang I surround myself with aren't perfect, but they are the ones who have proven through honesty, integrity, honor and diligence that they will be true friends. It's sad that she couldn't see me for who I am, or them for who they are.

Up until now, I only wished the best for her and her life. She told me the same, and then I read this entry, ironically written on my birthday... I ran into a mutual friend of ours who informed me that my ex-friend has been unemployed for several weeks and is having a difficult time finding employment due to a recently developed medical condition. I feigned the proper amount of concern and veered the conversation to a more palatable subject since talking about this certain person still brings nausea to my stomach. However, on my way home, alone in my car, I smiled. Karma is a beautiful thing.

Seems her "informant", who was probably MY OWN BLOG (since I don't really associate with the same people she does and she's been routinely been visiting all our blogs in an effort to move on with her life) was inaccurate... I LEFT my last job of my own accord, my health problem was under control in a matter of a couple of weeks, and I found suitable (and lucritive) employment based on my skills.

It's a wonder that someone who claimed me no ill will, deep in her heart, always meant harm to me.

And now, she is lonely, without many friends... interesting how Karma really works, isn't it?

I did mention up until now, I wished her only the best. That has changed. I wish her nothing. She is no longer a source of hate or betrayal for me.... she is a reminant of a past friendship that I treasured, and am grateful is over. I now know who my real friends are and have always been - even with their little odd traits and quirks. They are amazingly beautiful and will remain my continuous blessing.

So, I have breathed a deep sigh of release and have thoughtfully prepared my "Mantra" for today, in her memory:

I Pity You.