Being the bad guy

One of the hardest things for me to accept is that, to some people I know, I will always be the bad guy. I try so hard to be kind to everyone, and I hate to think there are people in the world who don't like me, but -- because of my actions and those of others -- it is unavoidable.

There is a man of my acquaintance who I was friends with for nine years. He wanted more from me, and I was unable and unwilling to be more. I wanted so much to be nice and give him the benefit of the doubt that he would accept my platonic feelings (which I stated multiple times) and move on to someone else eventually. But he kept coming back, promising he'd respect my feelings, and then later confessing me he still wanted more. It took me far too long to realize that he was never going to stop wanting, and I was never going to stop feeling horribly guilty about it. After nine years of feeling like a terrible person while trying to "be nice", I decided the best thing for both of us was to break off the friendship entirely. If I continued trying to be a friend, he was never going to believe there was no hope. 

The break-up conversation was one of the hardest things I've ever done -- much harder than I expected it to be. He refused to let me bow out gracefully; I felt forced to say some mean things, and he fired back with more mean things. He flat-out refused to let me go. So, I was forced to freeze him out of my life. For a week he tried to contact me. He kept saying all he wanted was for me to be happy, and yet by contacting me he showed he wouldn't do the one thing I asked of him: leave me alone. At the end of that first week, I wrote an e-mail saying more mean things, mainly "Leave me alone" over and over. I resented him for making me be so unkind, so unbending. I couldn't give him hope, and I needed time to heal my own damaged heart. After that, I avoided him. It was difficult, since we had and still have many mutual friends. 

Now, whenever I meet any man who reminds me of him, I have a hard time being anything more than "nice." Even then, I end the conversation as soon as possible. I'm so afraid of being put in that position again; I can't bear it.

Apparently, I'm still not over it.

However, I won't say anything unkind about him. I may not trust that he'll ever accept or truly respect my wishes, but he is a good person and has a lot of talent, and I wish him well. I honestly do. I can't pretend I was blameless, but I can't pretend that he's a terrible person.

We see each other once in a while, and it's always a little awkward, though it seems to be less so each time. Enough time has passed that there doesn't seem to be much bitterness between us. I don't think about it as much as I used to. I still maintain that breaking off the friendship was the right thing for me to do. I still maintain that even though years have passed and he and I have both probably changed, it's still right we don't try to be friends.

Meanwhile, we still have mutual friends. Situations keep arising that bring this...complication? problem? choice? (I don't know what word to use) up and force me to defend myself to people that don't have any business asking (now I'm defending myself to you all, and you didn't even ask). Even after all this time, I feel like the bad guy. I feel like I'm making everyone else's life harder because I'm still scarred and afraid. I worry about what he says about me when asked what's going on, and I assume I'm made out to be the unfeeling witch who can't forgive. I hope he's kinder to me than that, but I don't know. 

Last night and this morning, I had to confront my decision yet again. I didn't feel it appropriate to explain myself, but I still felt judged by multiple people. I spent a good chunk of last night trying to list good things about myself so I could stop feeling so awful. After all these years, I'm still upset about it. I guess, even to myself, I'm the bad guy.

And that's when I have to accept that there are things I can't control. He might still hate me. His family might still hate me. His friends might still hate me. I might still fear that they hate me, even if they tell me otherwise. People who don't bother to ask me my side will always take his.

I saw this quote this morning, and for some reason, it helped me feel a little better: 

"The bravest people are the ones who don't mind looking like cowards." - T.H. White

I could have made the choice to remain friends with him. I might still feel like a bad friend because I didn't want to be more than friends and yet still spent time with him and unintentionally gave him hope. Instead, I chose to break the pattern and hope for something better for both of us. He deserved to find someone who loved and valued him the way he wanted, and I deserved better than to feel like a terrible friend. 

I hope it was the brave choice. I know it was the right one.