Escaping the Past

I'm not sure where to begin this one.

I've mentioned the Evil Ex Roommate on here in the past, but I've never gone so far as to air our dirty laundry to the blog world. The drama was so immense and so long-lived that I've done enough bitching about it to last two lifetimes, and I don't want to do any more. I have taken the high road, so to speak.

You know, aside from dubbing her The Evil Ex Roommate on my blog.

But lately, you see, she is trying.

We see each other from time to time at social events--we were friends for years and have a fairly large number of mutual friends. When I see her, she is generally nice to me... at times going so far as to actually instigate conversation.

She recently Facebook-friended me, and is now sending me cute little applications on a fairly regular basis. So I send them back... that's what 'book etiquette demands, right?

She's trying, so I'm trying.

I don't think we will ever regain the level of closeness we once had. When the final nail was hammered into the coffin of our friendship, it was like a bad break-up. One of those ugly, nasty, whole body starts shaking just thinking about it break-ups. One of those break-ups from which you never quite manage to recover.

But she's trying. And part of me... the part of me that gave her more second chances than Sami on Days of Our Lives... wants to let her. Wants to think that perhaps she's coming around and realized just how horribly she treated me.

But the other part of me knows... knows... that this is not the case.

First of all, she has not apologized. EVER. Oh sure, the words "I'm sorry" have crossed her lips or issued from her keyboard, but they are always immediately followed by three little letters...

B. U. T.

"I'm sorry, but you should have..."

"I'm sorry, but you said..."

"I'm sorry, but I was having a really bad day and even though there's no way in hell you could have known that, you still shouldn't have said that innocuous thing you said that set me off into a homicidal rage..."

She is and always has been incapable of understanding the impact her actions can have on other people, or that my reactions to her behavior were, in fact, perfectly reasonable. Therefore, when I simply cut off contact because I couldn't handle it anymore, I'm sure she felt unjustly slighted.

When I stopped speaking to her for several months while we still lived together, that was certainly the case. Mutual friends make excellent informants.

So on one hand I suppose I should be flattered that she is seeking to reconnect even though she believes herself to be the only injured party in this train wreck that was our friendship.

But a few minutes ago she popped up on my Google Chat and my immediate reaction was, "Oh god, I haven't seen her since _______, what could she possibly have to be angry about!??!"

It turns out she just wanted to let me know that I got a random piece of mail at our old apartment and wanted to know if she could open it to see if it was junk, yet this encounter illustrates that I am literally afraid to talk to her. Afraid to open up that gate and let her back into my life because as things stand right now, that could only lead to a repetition of the past.

Unless she actually manages to genuinely apologize; to admit that she was, at times, in the wrong; to recognize that her behavior was hurtful and that, as such, I had a right to be hurt; there is no way for this friendship to be resurrected.

Hell, to simply admit that I have a right to my emotions, justified or otherwise, would be a start.

And I know this will never happen.

So part of me wishes she would just go away, stop rubbing salt in this long-suffering wound and let me be. She cannot give me what I need, and offering less is like a taunt (god, the break-up imagery here is simply staggering).

But I can't help wondering if trying is the first step.

Putting effort into someone other than herself is a fairly recent development. Perhaps there is hope for her yet...