"In the morning you wait for the sun,
and secretly hope it won't come-
but time washes everyone clean,
don't bail on me. Don't bail on me.
"-
Sheryl Crow

My old friend was on the phone and I don't think she was asking for forgiveness. But she was asking for something like that. Understanding? Perspective? A sense of knowing how she fit into my life and what that time meant. I tried to keep a straight face because, even over the phone it's hard not to laugh. It's hard when something you think is both sad and ironic occurs to you. How would I know what she learned from that year. Lord knows I learned nothing other than- listen to what people say . When someone says- "I think we are better off friends" maybe they mean that.

But she keeps on-more statements about commitment, fear of commitment and missed opportunities-(Is she speaking about hers or mine- Jeez- I can't ask that, can I?). I would like to say, "well, that ship has sailed" or some other trite statement, but, as usual she is so sincere- it would be cruel. So I don't.

But I do ask this: "What brought this on?"-I mean it has been three years, a couple rivers under the bridge by this point. As a self defense I had buried most of my attachment for her in those quiet, surly weeks after I left town. Now here she is, sort of poking around the edges like a dental assistant - Does it hurt here? How about over here?

The adult part of me knows that she does not mean to be cruel- she is just curious and is trying to absolve herself of blame/guilt before she moves on or so she can attach herself to some new person. At least that is how it sounds as she moves into the homestretch here- "Well, I just wanted some closure...."-

Still, there is part of me who would like to raise my voice, more than a little-

What gives you the right? Why do you think I would cut you any slack at all? Damn right it hurt and you and both know you were deceitful- good intentions my butt... where do you get off coming to me for a hall pass?

But... instead it ends like this:

Yeh, OK, yep, fine, nice to talk to you as well, best of luck with everything. I know, ... go figure.

I sit back and stare at the cold phone, she is no doubt pleased. I never thought of myself before as a clarifying solution. Just another used cosmetic, thrown in the trash.