The Curious Affairs Of Atherton Bartelby

The First Chance: 31 December 2006

From: Atherton
To: Bartholomew
Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2006, 23:42
Mailed By: gmail.com
Subject: You will never know…

…just how emotionally eviscerated your email has made me.

A.B.

+ + +

The Second (And Final) Chance: 30 September 2007

From: Atherton
To: Bartholomew
Date: Fri, 29 Feb 2008, 01:38
Mailed By: gmail.com
Subject: Never Is A Promise

Hello.

I needed to write this to you, for me, even though I do not at all expect that you will ever read it. Just that I have written it, though, and sent it on, is enough. For me.

Of all of the friends who ditched me in 2006, you hurt the worst. But I still understood it. You all had your own reasons for ditching me (assuming I stole your boyfriend, drinking too much, not calling
enough, not catching a flight I should have caught, etc.). And although you and I never discussed your reasons at all, I thought I understood why you left, as well. And I was therefore prepared to accept your departure.

What I was entirely unprepared for, however, was your return, and your response to my request, made at around midnight on a North Shore beach, that you NEVER leave me again. (Your response, if you may recall, was, “I promise.”)

But I let you back in, gave you a second chance (as anyone who knows me quite well will assure you that I NEVER do).

And still, you ditched me again.

And this time, for no discernible reason.

I just wanted to write this to you to try to get this, and you, off of my chest. To try to make the pain of losing your friendship (for a second time) at least attempt to retreat. To try to make sure that you know without any doubt exactly how much your departure(s) hurt me.

And to advise you that you should remember in the future to NEVER make promises that you do not intend to keep.

May your future be kind to you, and bring you nothing but happiness.

Best,
A.B.

+ + +

Note To Self: All The Days And Months And Years To Come

NEVER. AGAIN.

And never is a promise.

And I can’t afford to lie, either.

Bartholomew,

Firstly, please read the entirety of this missive and do not stop halfway through; I really do attempt to wrap it up nicely and neatly, despite what any sentence or thought in the body of said missive may belie if taken out of context.

Secondly, please accept my apologies for addressing what I am about to address in an e-mail and not in conversation, but I really do think I am better at formulating cohesive thoughts in my writing regarding these matters than I am at formulating them in conversation.

Thirdly, please accept my apologies for bailing on the Borders excursion this evening, and for bailing on The Horse Place soiree tomorrow evening, but I really do not think that I would have a good time given what I know will likely come up in conversation at some point during the evening. This e-mail is merely meant as a way to communicate to you, honestly, what it is that makes me uncomfortable, and why.

When I have become moody, quiet, or emotional of late (and I also apologize for not telling you this in a more honest and timely fashion), it has usually been because of something regarding you and me. On the morning after Halloween, it was the discovery that you had disappeared to engage in intimate activities with a Random Asian Boy stranger. This evening, it was not only the discovery that my genuinely innocent change of my emergency contact information at work had turned into office gossip about you and me, but that Laura (and you) seemed so quick to vehemently deny any such possibility of said gossip being true. When, quite frankly, my first thoughts regarding hearing said gossip were: 1) “Who the fuck gives a shit what anyone else says about us when we are the ones who know what is really up between us, anyway?!” and (or but) 2) “Would that really be so bad if it were true?!”

The truth is, Bartholomew, I value your friendship and companionship (in whatever capacity) more than I have valued anyone else’s in my entire life experience. In these past few (but long) months since we have come to spend more time together and to know each other better, I have had some of the most treasured and memorable experiences in my life, come to know one of the most amazing of people on what I have felt to be a mutually very deep and very honest level, and have shared things about me with you that I would never trust anyone else to know.

However, that one night on that one beach? That evening after which you gently suggested that you did not think “we should do the sex thing”? That evening that those three evil little words escaped my mouth at probably the most inappropriate of all moments? That was not only the alcohol in my bloodstream talking; I really did feel (and still do feel) that way about you.

Of course, time has brought a new perspective. And additional experiences and conversations with you have helped me see that anything more than friendship with you is most likely impossible, because you do not feel those same feelings for me, because you are not ready for any type of serious relationship beyond friendship, or even only because I am not your “flavor”. And most of the time, I am completely all right with that. I feel that I have done an admirable if not Herculean job of being your friend, being there for you when you have needed me in whatever capacity, being emotionally detached from my true feelings for you, and, perhaps most importantly, forcing myself to remain only the best friend I can be with someone I actually love more deeply than friendship, and trying like hell not to let it show.

But it’s moments like the Random Asian Boy Thing, and The Vehement Denial Of The Office Gossip Thing, that, only sometimes, make me emotional, or quiet, or uncomfortable, because they mark new experiences, new road marks, if you will, along this road of navigating a relationship whose friendship I treasure first and foremost, without letting my true, deeper feelings get in the way of it.

This probably was not an appropriate time during which to be completely honest with you about this, given your resignation, your first week at your new place, etc., and for that I apologize. But I did think that you had a right to know that, when I get like this, it really is just me, and nothing you have purposely done or said, that makes me uncomfortable, and quiet, and hesitant to place myself in an evening of drinking and friends at The Horse Place if I suspect that that the evening is going to go a certain way.

My intention here was to be completely honest with you. My intention was not to write anything that would change our current friendship in any way, even though I know you will probably think differently about it (and me) after reading this. I have never been on this end of this type of friendship before, only on the receiving end, i.e., your end, with my friend Remington, back in college. And so what I am hoping is that you have read these words, taken them for what they are, and will eventually be able to understand that I will sometimes not be able (nor want) to talk about certain things, and to continue to enjoy what we do share together, now, despite the feelings I have admitted to you in this missive. Just like Remington was able to do when he wrote similar words to me and I did not return his feelings for me, I really am all right with my own feelings for you not being returned; I just needed you to know they were still there.

So.

I truly hope that this doesn’t mean the end of our friendship, and I hope it does not change how we interact with / communicate with / generally enjoy each other, and I hope you will understand why I felt I had to communicate these things to you.

Best of luck to you during your busy day tomorrow; and despite all of your worry, I’ve every confidence that you will knock [client name redacted] dead. And have fun tomorrow evening and tell The Girls (both Golden and Cocktail Klatsch) “Hi” for me.

Best,
Atherton Bartelby

WTF?!

I wish he’d embrace his Totally Gay Side and at least experiment. I mean I would totally be willing to be His First Foray Into Hott Butt Sexx.

And I’m discreet.

Or.

I can be.

*whistles innocently*

There is much, much, much to tell via photoblogging about this particularly fabulous weekend. But I must wait to do so until I have more time to do so properly. Until then, a bit of a taste…

Pearl Jam | Honolulu, Hawaii | 02 December 2006 | As captured by Bartholomew.

The Inaugural Barbie Photo Shoot | Honolulu, Hawaii | 03 December 2006 | As captured by Bartholomew.