On my doorstep

It's hard to blog lately because it seems like every time I sit down to the computer, people that haven't communicated with me in over a year are seeking me out. Some are responding to the email invitation that I sent out, but others are simply out of the blue and haven't even realized that I'm back in Chicago. The total is at least four and it puts my emotions in a roil every time. Somewhat, this is because the total includes two of my ex-husband's friends. When I was married, I spent almost all of my social time with the guys that my husband was friends with. Some time was spent with girlfriends, but I didn't have a default group of them, so I only saw them when we set up dates to have coffee. The people that I had fun with were my husband's friends. We played role-playing games together and spent speech tournaments together and it was a good time. I became very close with several of them.

However, when Dennis left so suddenly, every single one of those friends seemed to hide from me. Our best friend told me I was a bad person.

Actually, this is really hard to write about. Rather than go into all of it again, let me simply summarize that I never saw my friends again, which hurt terribly and I have had to accept that I would not be able to force any aspect of closure from the situation. So, I put it behind me as best as I could.

I don't know what to do with these men that are writing me now. One agreed with our best friend in his assessment of me then and told me so, but by sending me an email. The other told me on the phone that he liked me still quite a bit, but because of his somewhat scattered personality (which is part of what I have loved about him), I haven't really engaged in a conversation with him until now.

I've gone back over the emails from the few of those friends who engaged with me even to that small extent. Some of the things I wrote sound a little hysterical, but not all of them. Had they no sense of empathy for the condition I must have been in? Why didn't they care enough about me to even see if they had the whole story before telling me that I was a bad person and that if it weren't for me, the divorce would be amicable and not ugly? I mean, my ex-husband hasn't returned a phone call since I left for the island. And it's my fault that things got ugly? Didn't they consider our years of friendship and give me the benefit of the doubt?

It feels like they didn't. But I don't want to commit the same offense of not being empathetic to how hard it must have been for them that their friends were splitting up. I want to give the one who is now coming back to me the benefit of the doubt. But what would I say? Will I have to defend my actions? Will I have to tell him the sides of the story that they never knew because I had to become a private investigator to figure it out and they never asked before they cut me off? How much will it hurt?

So, now, as a chance for a little closure is presented to me, what do I do? It obviously still hurts since this is rediculously hard to write. Is it worth dredging it all up?

I don't know and it's too late at night to call anyone. Dad said bloggers, including myself are a little weird, and I think the fact that I'm laying this all out to you proves his point. But what else do I do with this sad energy that would never let me fall asleep?