lenachen:

“He left me.”

A year ago, I found out an hour before leaving for spring break in Greece that my clinically depressed best friend (who’d been studying abroad in Heidelberg) had a breakdown the previous evening. Immediately thereafter, her boyfriend’s mental health unraveled as a result of hers, and he dumped her on the day before his planned visit to Germany. This man — her emotional pillar — also forbid her from coming back to the States to see him. I called him from my terminal and asked if his ticket was transferable or if I should book another flight to Germany. He told me that it wasn’t necessary, said that she “had people” there, and refused to talk to me about the situation. When I asked her what she wanted, she said, “Just take care of him for me.” Three days later, I showed up in Heidelberg $400 poorer. In her heavily medicated state, she barely recalled that I was coming.

Meanwhile, back in the States, her boyfriend spent spring break recovering with the support of friends, University Health Services, Harvard administrators, and a new girlfriend. Seriously, no joke. I actually didn’t find out about the new chick for a couple months, because he limited my access to his Facebook, despite the fact that I considered him a friend even after the breakup and defended him against accusations of irresponsibility. He didn’t tell my friend about the new relationship until I called him and essentially ordered him to. He completely morphed from being supportive and understanding to being defensive and not giving a shit.

So. It’s now a year later, and judging from the entry I stumbled upon on his new gal’s blog, he started this romance on or around April 3rd, approximately two weeks after he was supposed to leave for Germany last year. I can’t blame someone for falling out of love, but I don’t think that’s what happened, nor do I think he fell in love immediately after. And who am I really to issue a judgment when I’ve taken to flinging myself at men during times of particular emotional turmoil? I also can’t blame someone for being unwilling to stay in a relationship, because people seldom know what they’re getting into when they fall in love with the depressed. But what I can blame someone for is being selfish and dare I say, irresponsible. I don’t care how weak you are or how broken your spirit. If you have someone’s life in your hands, you don’t let it slip between your fingers because you can’t stand holding on.

A couple weeks after her breakdown and breakup, my friend wrote in her journal, “It’s not him that I’ve lost. It’s the belief that someone will be willing and able to deal with my depression forever.” I think I somehow lost that too, because for two years, I felt so intensely grateful for her boyfriend’s presence that I never questioned his ability to support her. Around the same time this was all happening, I had just started dating Patrick. I was sufficiently shaken by the entire experience that it took me much longer to trust him than it would’ve taken otherwise. For the first three or four months, I kept asking him, “Are you sure you really like me? I’m crazy, you know.” It’s never occurred to me until now that there was a connection between my concerns with my new relationship and the trauma my friend just went through. Girls like me and her can get so needy that it feels like we’ve consumed you. I wanted Patrick to know what he was signing up for.

Today, my mostly single (and far more sane) friends frequently lament the lack of decent men willing to embrace their idiosyncrasies. We’re not even talking depression here, just neuroses. I used to think in a similarly pessimistic manner, but then I met Patrick and stopped complaining. Even now, however, I don’t really think there’s hope for everyone, though I never get cynical out loud anymore, because friends will tease, “Well, look who’s talking.”

Well, look who’s talking. I’m happy, aren’t I? Yes. But I remember that my friend was also happy, despite the recurring tears and short breaths that accompanied her depression. It was all because of a boy who made things better, who appeared perfect until he turned out to be anything but. As for Patrick? Well, everyone’s perfect until they leave, so for now at least, he’s perfect.