“let them go-the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers-you must let them go they
were born
to go” — ee cummings*

I’ve been friends with Deb for nearly 6 years. We were work friends. The friendship originated because we worked so closely together and well, we both liked to talk. We both got divorced during that timeframe and she was really invaluable during my divorce. It seemed like every day I’d call her extension, crying that I was out of kleenex and could she bring me some tissues because I didn’t want to leave my cubicle with my make-up smeared around my eyes. And then when she finally decided to get help for her depression, she called me one morning and I cried with her on the phone. We’ve been through a lot.

But now, things are different. We don’t work together any more and we don’t have much in common without work. I stopped talking to her for a while, for my own sanity, because she was constantly complaining about her husband, her kids, his kids … it got to the point where I had expressed my feelings, told her she either had to do something to fix the situation or think about moving on … and I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Things have evened out a bit since then.

The latest topic, though, is my upcoming surgery. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand why I want to do this, why I feel like I NEED to do this. She keeps trying to talk me out of it, not listening to my when I explain, as patiently as I can, that I have been diligently going through the process for months now, meeting first with my doctor, attending the informational seminar, meeting the surgeon, attending classes, exercising … I don’t know why. I don’t see how a thin Monique could be a threat to her. But maybe I am, I don’t know.

I’ve been lucky, so far the overwhelming majority of my friends and family members have been positive. My dad was about the only person who was apprehensive at first but he was worried about me … and he is very overweight himself. The day after I told him about the surgery he told me that I was doing the right thing and I was smart to do it now, while I was still young. That makes me sad, even now I’m tearing up; he’s only 63, but I can’t make him have the surgery.

Anyway I didn’t mean for this to be a downer post … but it’s how I’m feeling now so that’s what you get! I can’t believe my 3-year “blogaversary” is on Thursday. Usually I do something semi-spectacular; I don’t know what I’ll come up with … I suppose I should start thinking!

*I’m not a big poetry fan but I love me some ee cummings, maybe because we have the same birthday … 80 years apart lol. This poem is my favorite.