last week I saw Kaza.
The last time I saw Kaza was November 2006 at a surprise birthday party for a mutual friend. After a few margaritas I decided to actually go up and talk to her. We had ignored each other for the entire evening. Her husband David had given me a hug and said he missed my smile and asked how I was – I’m fine. I talked to Kaza outside that night for a good 45 minutes “hashing it out.” We didn’t yell at each, we discussed some stuff – but not too much. At this point i was still confused and angry and didn’t really know what had happened but knew that I was kicked out of the wedding, which I took to the next level by going through life as though she had kicked me out of her life completely. That night she told me she still wished I would have at least GONE to her wedding and that was the most confusing feeling I believe I’d ever felt. Are you kidding me? I didn’t even understand why I was fired, and now I’m being told well yah you were fired but you could’ve come to the party still. it was wierd. I was unsure of everything – still. We left it on a hug and we wanted to talk more. But after a few days I decided it wouldn’t have been good for me. I told her something like I didn’t want to walk on egg shells being sure I gave her the alloted time and energy she was required. I just wasn’t ready to tackle the idea of trying to figure anything out. I felt cut out, and that was it. I didn’t want to be around the trigger to my anger, frustration and confusion and at that point that was what she had become. A trigger. I wanted to just let things be as they were. I was with Cleveland, she was with David and we all had our separate lives. Besides I was now in my second year at school and knew that what ever ‘time and energy’ I believed she wanted or needed I would be unable to give her because of my grueling schedule. It sucked up my life and it was okay with some people, and not okay with others. A risk I didn’t want to take or deal with again.
So there I was having spaghetti at my dadda’s house last weekend (5.25.08) I had successfully drunk dialed Kaza the weekend before and agreed to call her sober if I still wanted to talk to her, which I did – so I called, sunday afternoon. She had text me she was at lunch, then a show then she was at dinner with her friend Donna. Somehow in the conversation via text she found out I was home in AG (I wasn’t trying to keep it from her, I just didn’t assume meeting was an option) and she said I was welcome to go have drinks with her and her friend, to which I declined. I was spending time with family. She knew I wanted to talk to her though, so she continued to ask if I was going to be around tomorrow (monday 5.26.08) and if I wanted to meet and have coffee. This I was not prepared for. I immediately felt uncomfortable and said I’d have to think about it. I wasn’t necessarily afraid, I was just – uncomfortable. It wasn’t familiar territory anymore and much had “gone down” the last few times we had ever spoken and I didn’t know if seeing each other face to face would help, or make it worse.
Upon waking on monday 5.26.08 I showered and packed as I would be leaving that day to drive back to Vista after breakfast. I got bagels and headed over to Jenn’s house (my sister-in-law) and my mommie and brother Rik met us there as well. The smurf was golfing with my dadda. I had talked about Kaza with Jenn a bit, she’s become such a good friend that I have found I really look to her for an objective opinion and we are so much alike in so many ways it often does come from a place of “if it was me. . . ” I appreciate it. Anyway, we discussed and I decided I’d meet Kaza for coffee. So I text her, and we would meet at the Steaming Bean in Shell Beach,CA at 11:45am. Almost 2 years after the last time I saw her.
There was no small talk, I got mocha with coconut in it, and she got her beverage and we sat at a booth. It wasn’t as hard to see her face to face as I thought it would be. Actually it was much more emotional than I thought it would be. This is was “Mahroomah!” for years, even after we weren’t living together. We used to tell the same story on how or where we met, we totally dressed the same sometimes and we shared a love for shoes and Coffee ice cream with Heath bars in it from Ben n Jerry’s. But I still didn’t know her anymore, and she didn’t know me anymore. She was very willing to listen, after all I was the one who called, I was the one who needed to figure things out. So she listened, and when I began with “this for me started when I didn’t make it to your bachelorette party in Vegas” (August 2006) I may have said two more words after that before she asked to interrupt and asked to rewind to when it started for her – which was apparently a YEAR before that.
I listened to her side, her thoughts, her feelings. How she felt when I moved away from AG into Santa Maria, how she felt about me venting here instead of talking to her, how she felt ignored or detached from me that first year of school when I was in rehearsals or class from 9am – 11pm 6 days a week. I listened and listened and felt lost when I realized all of the build up for a year resulted in the weekend I didn’t make it to her bachelorette party. So this was happening to her for a year and as far as I knew, we were fine – we were fabulous and both of us very busy. So you can see why in my utter confusion getting fired from wedding seemed like a very harsh decision. She told me she didn’t want to do that, but she felt it was all she could do. That somehow *I* had become distant and unwilling to discuss anything, or give her any time or energy or excitement for her planning her wedding.
My side of the story was much shorter, and it was a shame it had come down to this. I believed we were fine. I believed she knew I was not going to be in Vegas, I had the weekend of her wedding pre-approved to be gone and it was closing in. Her party was in Vegas on a friday and saturday night. I text her sunday “happy day of recovery.” She had never text me back after that. Instead I received a call from her sister, Teri, telling me that I let her down, that I disappointed her and kaza down and that my actions were not something a bridesmaid did, much less a good friend. My immediate reaction to hearing that they didn’t know i was going to be there was exactly “oh shit!!” And as I continued to listen to Teri’s message it became – hey?….why is she telling me what a disappointment I am? why is she telling me my actions are not what a bridesmaid does, “much less a good friend” . I went into defensive mode. There would be no stopping it, I was furious that she spoke to me like that. I did everything I could to go and couldn’t – I just COULDN’T. But as far as I knew, they knew I wasn’t going. That is the kind of wall that I slammed against. I described it to kaza as a very thick, very cold, metal and spiky wall that left me angry and confused – and I would stay like that for months and months following.
After the weekend of Vegas happenings kaza and I played phone tag for a day, then I received a card in the mail. A card with butterflies on it and a purple border. The card that so eloquently worded had asked me to step down from her bridal party. A card that said I had shown her my true colors…..a card I used to have memorized, that I still have but I do not look at. And in response I sent her a card back telling her she was a coward for not talking to me, but literally writing me out of her life on a card and sending it to me. I immediately felt that sort of break in your heart where you don’t know what went wrong or when, but you know that it was only going to get worse, at least for a while. And all that is left are questions, memories and anger. There would be no peace of mind regarding her after that card, not for months and months.
And even now that I’ve discussed the card exchanges with her I still hate it. I hate that whatever series events happened had altered our being forever. But we can never go back. We can only move forward.
I can’t say that I agree with everything she said or did, but neither her for me – but it was good to put it out there. It was good to ask my questions, it was good to be heard. I told her I think I was just looking for a way to be able to look back without always being depressed or furious.
Yes, it was like a “real” relationship.
No, we are not going to go back to the way things were, we never will be able to do that – ever.
No, we have not agreed that now we will try to be friends.
We have agreed that we listened to each other. We have agreed that if there are more questions that the other will answer them if they are asked, we have agreed to continue to listen.
But we both tread carefully.
We want different things now, we are different people now.
We are neither here nor there,
but we agreed *we* are “okay.”