A friend and I discussed a recent loss in his personal life, a friend that died from overdosing on drugs. It is affecting him hard, though this person was more of an acquaintance in recent years; to think that a person he knew was already deceased. This has happened to him before. He lost a best friend to an overdose several years back, and it became a theme that has persisted for half a decade now. Each year he has lost someone who has overdone it.
We sat on the bench, somber and staring down as the wind rustled through the grass.
“I am afraid of losing others. He was brilliant, from a nice family, a great neighborhood. Blew it all away. Crazy, man. It’s crazy. I barely talk to my friends from back home anymore.”
“You feel like distancing yourself will keep you safe; it’ll prevent you from losing others and having it hurt as much.”
“Exactly, and I feel like a hypocrite, judging other people when my good friends now act the same. But, they have everything together. They party hard, work hard. They don’t let everything fall to shit. I’m just afraid that they’re not impervious either, that this will happen to them accidentally.”
“You blame yourself for not doing more, for being distant. You get disappointed when you see the potential in people and they don’t follow through on those standards.”
“Yeah, and I’m upset with myself for feeling superior. They haven’t changed. I have. My fear was traveling down the same road as them and ending up mediocre, without a job or sense of direction.”
“I don’t think it’s superiority. Everyone is responsible for their actions and the consequences it has on his or her life. People grow up and adapt as they make choices. Sometimes people outgrow each other. You feel like you have nothing in common with them anymore, but wish you did. You wished they pulled themselves together.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it. I don’t have anything in common with them. They live in whatever connected us in the past, distant memories from nearly ten years ago. They go out and get messed up because it’s all they have to look forward to, but the people I know now will go out, socialize, go back home and get promoted at their jobs. They’re all very smart people, but they have themselves together.”
“And you’re worried about them. You’re scared for them, but you don’t know how to express that without feeling judgmental.”
“Yeah, I feel like they’ll laugh me off. And I haven’t told my close friends from college yet for the same reason. I don’t want to ruin their good times, make them think I’m telling them how to live their lives.”
“But how did you react the last time you lost someone?”
“Binge drank. For over a week. It was the most drunk I’ve ever been, but I think it was also the social situation I was in, y’know, in that environment with others already. It just helped promote that feeling. I didn’t tell anyone around me. Nobody knew what was wrong.”
“Well, environment is one thing, but you still felt like drinking, I bet. You don’t react well when you bottle this topic up. What would you tell your friends now, if you could?”
“I’d tell them what happened and say that I wasn’t trying to tell them how to live their life, that this just happened and I’m thinking about it. I don’t feel like drinking now. I feel like sleeping. I’m done with this happening.”
“Well, there you go. That’s what you can do, talk to them about it and they can take from it what they will – you are not responsible for them. And those feelings are normal. You’re grieving right now. You’re protecting yourself.”
“True. I just don’t want to drop a bomb and make it awkward between them and me.”
“They’re your friends. Do they confide in you when bad things happen in their lives?”
“Yeah. Definitely. You’re right. They would want to know and listen, to be there for me too.”
“That’s what friends do.”
It started to rain. The grass began collecting the drops, and the concrete became a darker gray. We said our goodbyes, hugged, and parted ways.
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