I finally think my Freudian self--my unconscience--has finally finally caught up with my conscience. Hoorah for mental and, I suppose now, emotional rationality.

Last night, for the first time, I had a negative dream about Jack. I dreamt that basically he was being his usual self-righteous bastardly self...and this time, I broke up with him in my dream. For Good. The whole never want to speak with you, email with you, call you, talk with you, listen to you deal. Yeah, all of it.

What does this mean? And why now?

Well, actually, for once, I think I know why.

It has always been my opinion, correct me if I'm wrong, that most human beings have the tendency to try and supprt a person who is having problems, living a crisis (par exemple...). That's why I dismiss (well, perhaps assume superficiality, not dismiss, because I do appreciate it) the most general questions of concern from aquaintances--like the text message I received yesterday saying I could always call to talk if I felt the need. (It costs a ton to call someone here...hence my cynicism, but still, a nice message.)

And here's the key: Jack has not done any of that. Not even a basic checking up on me...and he knows what is going on. He knows the story. He knows.

I can now objectively think back to when I finally did call him and catch him at his office. He wasn't happy to hear from me, he was surprised--but in the slightly upset, gotten the better of, confused way...There was not one hint of happiness in his voice even though we had not spoken on the phone for about four months.

When I finally spoke with him most recently it turned into an argument on something else. Though I tried to downplay things, be more humble, and feed his ego a little bit (while dashing mine to more complete bits). I sent him an apology email afterwards...and he sent back a self-righteous bastardly one, again, wherein he basically continued to wreak havoc on what little self-esteem I have left, gave me an ultimatum...and then rubbed in the fact that he was no longer supporting me or going to be there for me with a brief side remark on how my life must suck because of what's happening. No kidding.

Oh yeah, thanks for shitting on me too there Jack.

Oh yeah, you too "best friend."

Anyone else wanna take their turn?

The thing is, I think I have now come to realize, with everything going on, in such horrible circumstance, that he cannot put things aside...that he can never be there for me even when I really need him. Despite what he says. And so, I can no longer understand how Jack can even claim to be a friend. He's not.

I cannot understand how someone can do what he is doing. I remember when his father was sick (thank G-d he's better now)...and I would try and talk with Jack, and actually called him repeatedly trying to make sure he was okay, checking on him. I offered him money to go fly to see his father...And when we were having some arguments and stuff, if he acted oddly, I chalked it up to the problems he was dealing with with his father--and gave him a break.

Nope, I get no breaks. Not from G-d, not from anyone.

I suppose the only "silver-lining" in this whole scenario is that I no longer want to talk to him. He doles out time on the phone..."Okay, I have five minutes, if you need more it's up to your determination. But I have five minutes."...as if he were an emperor or something, allowing a slave some time to speak to him. He expects me to pour my heart out to him and then just get off the phone...to just open up automatically...perhaps he doesn't understand that that's a privilege, and it's about to be withdrawn.

Because you see, Jack, I no longer want to speak to you. I no longer call hoping to reach you...I'm still working on the not hoping for you to call or receive an email...but mostly because I want to regain my hope in your simple level of human compassion.

I simply cannot believe you could be that uncaring and that, yeah, I'll say it, selfish.

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