Letting Go

I have had the pleasure of being surrounded by many great people in my life. Wonderful friends. That's not to say I didn't encounter the occasional jerk-face somewhere in the mix, but that's not important at the moment, because I'm talking about decent, good-hearted, genuine friends.

It's a fact. We (people) do change. What changes us? Life. Truth, it doesn't matter if it's fortune or misfortune, either can completely change a person for better or worse. Oh life, you trickster, you rapscallion, you whatever-something-or-other, why do you do what you do when you do?

I'll get to the point...

I have a friend who I have known since grade five. We weren't always the closest of friends, but we did remain friends till this very day. I would call him a true genius. He wasn't the most social person in school through the early years. Probably at first due to his native language being Polish, living in a Polish speaking family new to an English speaking suburban central Ontario town. He excelled in two disciplines: fitness, and computers. He was very smart in other areas as well, but in those specifically, I didn't know anyone else who compared, except for maybe his older brother. Anyway, through high school (and afterwards) we would get together mainly to play video games and watch movies, and he would always want to update and fix my computer software and hardware, mainly because he enjoyed making things work better, and because he was a very good friend.

After some months of being disconnected from him (as happens with friendships - somewhere in our twenties), I was shocked to discover that he had developed a serious drinking problem. I didn't know how bad it was becoming because he started to distance himself from people who he was ashamed to face. One day we got together to watch movies and he insisted that we start the movie while he made a quick update on my computer, because he had already seen the first few scenes of it. He did join us eventually and we had a good time. Later that evening, after he had left, I found empty cans of alcohol stuffed in a back corner of my closet. With that, I did a little more investigating and found cans under my bed, and in the tank of the toilet. I might have noticed something sooner that night, that he was perhaps a little drunk, but I myself was likely high as a kite. (That however, another story) I brought it up with him and he spoke to me of his struggle, and that he was going to get help. I didn't hear from him after that, only of his issues through his family, and how it wasn't getting better, but worse. It made me sad.

Some years later when I had moved to Toronto, I had a knock at my door one day and to my surprise, it was my friend. He said he was no longer welcome at his house because of his problem and just needed a place to stay for a few days until he could clean himself up. I should have known better, he was drunk, and hadn't showered in days, but I let him crash on my couch with the condition that he didn't drink. He did anyway. I caught him with some beer cans. (12% alcohol content! Who drinks beer that strong?) I confiscated them from him and drank them right in front of him. Told him it was vile and I was damaging my liver to save his. Maybe not the best decision, but I'm not a genius, or a therapist. I was just reacting... Anyway, three days later, he had consumed over $300 worth of booze that I kept in the house for social events (but had hidden, and he found by rooting through my things), and then vanished.

Two years later, we reconnected and he apologized for everything that happened. He had apparently cleaned himself up, gotten professional help, and was on the path to recovery. The only problem was that he was living in a group home and was surrounded by people with all sorts of addictions and it was making the situation for him very difficult, so he wanted to know if he could move into a room in an apartment I was subletting. Being a good friend, I rented the room out to him, because I wanted to help as any friend would... Call me a fool, he relapsed. Then still I gave him one more chance, despite the concerns and suggestions of other friends, I kept him in the house. Then... I don't think I even need to say it.

Friend, you know who you are. If you are reading this, I am sorry I am putting distance between us. I am sorry I will not allow you back into this house. I forgive you for taking advantage of my kindness. I forgive you for leaving me in a position that could jeopardize the living situations of myself and the others in the house. I have nothing but respect for you and your family, I cannot however allow your problem become my problem anymore, because other people rely on me, and I am no good to other people if I am not good to myself. It is difficult to let go of a good friend, but it is what I must do, and it is what you must find the strength to do with whatever it is that drives you to continue to destroy yourself, and the love and support that people show you.

Let go... You can't climb a mountain if you carry all of the rocks you pass along the way.