12:09 p.m. - Jul. 16, 2004
Nikki
So I had this girl in my life that was as much a part of me as my own skin. We were very close for many years, even after she moved to Austin. I�m not a chick-chick�I�m more of a chick-dude or a dude-chick ~ so, meeting her, this other chick-dude, dude-chick had quite an impact on my life. I had no idea, at the time, just how much of an impact she had�and continues to have, even though we haven�t spoken in many years.
Some five years ago, when I was still married to Walter, and he threw me a surprise party for my 30th birthday, Nikki and I had a falling out. A serious one. We are both self-absorbed, selfish, stubborn, pig-headed girls. Neither of us would waiver. The animosity between us grew bigger than the distance that separated us. Our relationship never recovered.
She got married. She had a son. She got divorced. She changed jobs. She had a boob job. Her temper has improved, her mother tells me. She may be more receptive now, to hearing from me, than she was some three years ago, when I tried to make amends. I showed up unannounced at her wedding in Zilker Park. It was in the Rose Garden, not exactly private. But still, I wasn�t welcome. She made that very clear. I left before the ceremony, in hysterical tears. I couldn�t speak. My heart shattered.
I�ve never had my heart shattered by a woman ~ I�ve never had my heart shattered by someone that was not my lover.
All these years, I have thought of her, dreamed of her, wondered about her and her son and her life. I hurt for the lack of her and the deep friendship that we had. I miss her. I miss her something bad.
Last year I found a photograph of her, laying on her sofa, with her beloved cat, Aberis, on her lap. It pained me to look into this snapshot of a moment that used to be shared with me and feel the void of all things Nikki. But I placed this photograph on my refrigerator, my own private reminder of the good times. It remained here until I moved into my new place, back in March of this year, when I moved the photo to my new fridge. Sometime back, after Ian returned from Iraq, he asked me about this photograph. I told him the story, all of it.
Last week, I dreamed of Nikki. She was right there, in front of me, facing me, looking at me, looking into my eyes. She was receptive to talking with me. I was so excited. But yet, in the dream, I could not hear anything she said. I kept having to ask her to repeat herself. She would talk. I would hear mumblings. That was the extent of the dream.
Then I got one of those e-mails that everyone sends to everyone they know, about not missing opportunities in life�about not saving the good china for special occasions, about not saying �If only I had�� or �Tomorrow I will�� It was all about seizing the moment, living the life that you want to live NOW and not waiting for it to maybe one day make its way to you.
I thought of Nikki, immediately. I took this as a sign that I needed to do something. Hell, I need to do something anyways ~ the NOT doing anything is killing me. I miss her. I miss what we had. I don�t even know what her son looks like. I can�t believe she actually bought boobs.
So I called my ex-husband last night, to see if he knew how to get in touch with Nikki. He admitted to losing touch with her last year, when Nikki started to have troubles with her now ex-husband. But he had Nikki�s mom�s number. I called Phyllis and she gave me Nikki�s e-mail address. This morning, I sent an e-mail to Nikki. My first attempt at communication with her in three years.
And, although I haven�t heard back from her, the e-mail went like this:
Nikki,
This is a letter I have been attempting to write, at least in my head, for years now. It usually begins with something like, �I don�t know where to begin� or �Maybe you�ll just delete this, but I wish you would just hear me out.� And then I stumble and I have no other words that I can organize�just a million thoughts of a million good times and regrets for not fighting harder to keep you as my friend.
Truth is, when we split as friends, I didn�t really know how to make peace or how to make things better. As more time passed, it only became harder and harder to write this letter. Now here I am, a stranger, writing a letter to a girl that might not give me the time of day.
But Nikki, I have never stopped caring for you and I have never stopped thinking of you ~ ask anyone that knows me today. I still have the picture of you on your sofa with Aberis in your lap. Sometimes this picture makes me happy and sometimes it makes me feel sad. I have struggled to make peace with the past, in how our friendship ended. I have tried to justify in my mind the things that drove us apart and kept us apart all these years. Yes�all that matters even today�but, yet still, I cannot change the past. I cannot go back and fix that. I can only tell you how much I have hurt, over the loss of our friendship. I can only stand here, in the present, and express to you the best that I can that I am truly sorry and I miss you more than you may ever know.
Something inside me has been begging me to somehow find the courage to reach out and try this again. I am not afraid to tell you that I love you more than I ever thought that I could love a woman, a friend, a sister. I am not afraid to tell you that I have never had a friendship with anyone else that comes close to what we had. I am not afraid to tell you that I am afraid�afraid of that look that you get when you�re mad and have no time for someone that has hurt you ~ afraid that�s how you still feel about me. I�m afraid of the words that you might have for me, telling me to fuck off. I am afraid of you not responding to this letter at all. But, most of all, I am afraid that my lack of courage or abundance of pride will prevent me from the possibility of a true, deep friendship that we once shared. I have to take a chance, Nikki ~ I couldn�t live with myself if I didn�t.
Say what you will or say nothing at all. I ask for nothing except the opportunity to express myself, which I guess I�ve done here, at least a little bit. I hope that you have read this letter and that you can feel and sense the sincerity of my words. I only want you to know how special you are to me, even now, so far removed from your life.
I feel as if I have said nothing, and that I still have so much to say�
Nikki, I hope that this letter finds you well ~ happy and healthy in life. If you ever decide to reach out, I would love to hear from you.
