Buff Guy has the absurd notion that he and I can remain friends. As I’m sitting at an airport terminal, trying to stifle my sobs over the phone, he says to me: ‘I hope you won’t go and disappear on me. I still want you in my life.’
He had the audacity to assure me that since we got along so well, he would like it very much for us to revert back to being friends.
In that moment, I was overcome by a curious mixture of desperation and pride which inspired me to bargain for seemingly more favorable terms. I challenged him to maintain our friendship. Outwardly at least, the onus to hold on had shifted to him. But really, I know that he has already let go and I am the only one that is still holding on.