The Power of Friendships

One of my friends died.

And I am not sure how I feel about it. I mean, yeah..I feel bad.
But that's not what I mean. I mean how I really feel about our friendship, or lack thereof.


I blogged about her a few months ago. I called her a shit-starter. I do not take that back..she was a shit-starter. I actually stopped talking to her because of this. She caused me some drama with people that I had been friends with before her. I really feel that she did this on purpose. With hate. Not for me, but for my other girls. I almost fed right into what she was telling me.

I was friends with a guy named Russell. He was a bouncer at a club that I used to frequent.
We talked on the phone regularly..and hung out on occasion. but I saw him every weekend while shaking my booty with random guys on the dance floor. He laughed at me, and all the drama I got myself into at the club with the guys, but he always looked out for me..I guess he couldn't miss me..I was the only white girl..actually the only white person..in the place.

He met her through a mutual friend of theirs. She immediately told him that he was not allowed to be friends with me anymore. But after she met me, she changed her mind. Her and I became friends, and hung out every Friday at the club, while Russell worked. They soon got engaged, and she asked me to be her Maid of Honor..which I was.

She stopped hanging out as much, she really hated the club scene..Her jealousy was obvious. She couldn't stand the girls smiling at Russell, much less talking to him. Whenever someone hugged him, She shot fire in their direction.
And as an added bonus, the little spot that we went to just got way out of control..just way too much random violence for me. So, we all stopped going there, and Russell quit the bouncer gig.

Russell became friends with my man at the time..Andrew. Andrew was a Trinni--and oh..I loved me some him. He, because of his culture, was naturally possessive and jealous. He was also a champion kick boxer. He could fuck people up and was always willing to buck up on anyone at the club that even looked at me. As much as I loved him, I couldn't stay with him when he was always on the verge of cracking some random brutha's jaw just for looking in my direction. I stopped seeing him, and he was not happy about it. He still talked to Russell, so when my girlfriend went to get my stuff from his apartment for me, shit-starter jumped right on it and said they were fucking. She said that Andrew told Russell that he fucked my friend. And she also said that she saw them together. Which was untrue.

I just stopped talking to her. I did not want to get caught up in the drama that she needed to make her life exciting. I had not talked her in about a year.

She called me last November, and told me that she had cancer. She said the doctors gave her a few years at best..

I talked to her a few times over the last 9 months or so. She sent email updates to let everyone know how she was doing and what treatments she was getting.

Russell called me a last night. He said that she probably would not make it thru the week..this was shocking to me..and I immediately started to feel guilt. I thought about how I am as a friend..and I feel bad for ending our friendship the way that I did. I feel like I failed her as a friend, and that she regretted me being the Maid of Honor in her wedding. I thought I failed her just as my son's chosen God-Mother..my best friend for years..had failed him. She never calls him. Ever.
And I think that's shitty. I think I was shitty.

Yesterday, after talking to Russell..I was contemplating going to see her today. Should I? It was a tough call. I hate when people get sick, then folks come out the woodwork and try to be the person that they should have always been. In other words, phoney. Guilty.
but it didn't matter. He called me at 1am and told me that she died.

I plan on attending her funeral. She was my friend, and I want to pay my respects. I just hope I can get over myself for not being the friend that I should of been. That's the biggest tragedy.