I lashed out today. I didn't realize I still harbored anger towards a particular person in Blake's life until it bubbled inside of me and reached a boiling point. I could have talked it out with someone else or processed it on my own, but instead this rage drove me to send a message to him. In my message I didn't place any blame, but I did express my resentment for his connection to Blake's death and how he's chosen to handle things in the aftermath.
I know that everyone is dealing with Blake's death in their own way. Maybe retreating and cutting ties is what he needs to do to heal. I may be mistaken in interpreting his silence and disengagement as him not caring. It's possible that he cares so deeply that he can't find the words to express it. He may be hurting even more than I am. Maybe talking to me about everything that transpired could send him to an even darker place, a place he's not strong enough to go right now. I can't possibly know what's going on in his head and in his heart.
I'm starting to realize that the extent to which I am willing and able to express my feelings is rare. It's unusual for people to not only have the ability to pinpoint their exact feelings, but also communicate them clearly. I can't expect the same level of self-awareness from others, nor do I have the right to demand it. I'm realizing more and more that I need to put my own desire to talk things out into perspective. Maybe that's what I need, but not everyone else operates that way.
Although the message was written in anger, I don't regret sending it. I stand behind everything I said to him and authentically feel everything I wrote. My realization, however, was that I needed to be less demanding of his communication and more respectful of his need to process things in his own time.
After I finished writing this blog entry, I sent him one final message:
"I don't expect you to respond to any of that, I just want you to think about it. Maybe one day when you're ready we can have a conversation about it. I'm still really hurt and it would help me a lot to be able to talk to you. Not now, but whenever you're ready."
So as I process what went down an hour ago, I am reminding myself that things will work out in the end. Maybe years from now when the pain isn't as fresh, he will be able to talk to me about everything that happened. Or maybe, years from now I will be at peace with Blake's death to a point that hearing from this friend or not won't change anything for me. I hope one day we can both be in a place where we can have this conversation. And if not, I hope one day I can be in a place where I don't need to.