Losing

(edit)  I don't think Dana wants to be unkind...but it doesn't stop her from being knowingly unkind, willfully unkind.  And there must be a reason why she chooses this, but she keeps it to herself.  The worst part of it might -  no, no, every part of it is the worst part.  But not knowing why she treats me this way makes it so much worse.  Oh...and there's the question of whether or not she feels the least bit bad about hurting me.  Does she?  She's given me zero reason to think she does, and my faith on that score is depleted.  Given that we were friends once, that hurts a helluva lot.

For that matter, she may not be aware she's hurt me at all.  I've no means of reaching her, and I doubt she followed up finding out.

I was hurt and angry when I wrote the post below.  The anger has gone but the hurt remains.  There's a backstory I can't go into.   Despite everything, I'm very protective toward Dana.  Wildfires just broke out again in Southern California, and I worry she has loved ones there who might be in danger.  Is she still in San Mateo?

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It's 10:40 PM, Wednesday.  I've been unable to sleep since maybe 5 or 6 AM Tuesday.  That was when Dana let me know that she is not my friend and never will be.  I want to rail at her, yell at her to go to hell, but she is as beyond reach as she is beyond caring.

I don't understand.  She's not a cold person.  I don't believe that.  Yet she knows the way to hurt me more than anything is to keep me in the dark.  She will not tell me why she will not speak to me.   Jesseca tells  me she has a tattoo of Guanyin.  This can't be right.  Guanyin is a figure of compassion. Dana refuses to practice that compassion.

I listened to an album Dana likes, and one of the songs on it echoes our story - or so it seems to me.  If that's so, the lyrics indicate that she never did intend to speak to me - and she's known for two months that I was hoping she would.  So, she's been cruelly stringing me along?  I asked her.  I sent her a PM and asked her.  I wasn't rude, or strident,  and I was far from angry.  That was on Friday morning, the 25th. 

I had the following dream on the 25th:  Dana in what looks like a park or playground, seen from across the grounds.  She has her hair long, straight, and copper, wears a baggy black sweatshirt, and tan pants.  She has two or three female friends with her, dressed the same. They are trying to restrain her as she is in hysterics, crying and raging, seems like she wants to hit or destroy something but there's nothing to destroy. Don't know if this was psychic or imagination.

On Tuesday morning I discovered that Dana had been on her FB on the 25th and blocked me from sending her messages.  The only reason I was ever on FB to begin with was the hope of reconnecting with her.  She knows what this means to me.

She chooses to do this now, at the lowest point of my life.  My parents have died, I have no money and no job, and will be losing a roof over my head within the next month or so.  Dana knew this was cruel, and she did it anyway.

Jesus, my hands are shaking.

Everyone wants me to survive this.  I have friends who will help.  Dana is not one of them.  I want the fucking pain to end, and Dana knows full well she is adding to it.  I don't understand this betrayal.  I don't understand her cruelty and coldness.

Earlier I found a cache of old photos from childhood.  There was a shot of mom in there.  That was a painful shock I hadn't been expecting. 

When mom died,, it was only the hope Dana had just extended of reconciling with her that got me through it.  Dana maybe saved my life.  Now she has withdrawn that hope with no explanation.  She kept me alive only to force me to spend it in misery.  THAT's cruel.  It's fucking hateful.

I had wanted someday to ask her to marry me.  What I had just asked of her was compassion.  She spat in my face for it.

(3 in the morning, soon be 48 hours, still can't sleep.)