It really isn't always about me, is it?

I almost wrote about this particular subject matter several months ago, because it was really bothering me how a friend of mine had abandoned our friendship after Ryan died. I saw her at Ryan's memorial service and haven't heard from her since then.

I had figured that she and her husband had decided that they didn't want to "hang" with people who obviously have lousy luck. And, I know that people do things like this, because they're afraid that that bad luck will rub off on them. I only know this because several friends of mine admitted that that was the reason they didn't keep in better touch with me during and immediately after my divorce, and then again in 2004 when I miscarried. They were afraid that what happened to me would happen to them. Bad luck isn't contagious, luckily, but it hurt that my supposed friends left me high and dry in my greatest times of need.

So, I figured this friend had gone by the wayside for the same reason. When someone is a regular part of your life and that suddenly changes, what are you supposed to think? And, this wasn't a casual friend, either. She was the first friend I made after we moved to North Carolina, and it was great that our husbands got along famously, too. We used to pet-sit each other's animals, and she was even our emergency contact for our house alarm company. She helped me plan Ryan's memorial service since her father-in-law is a funeral director, and I had been at several social gatherings where her family and in-laws were present. We had even joked that Ryan would be their daughter's boyfriend, since they would've been just a year apart in age. (And, if our pregnancy in 2004 had come to fruition, there would've been just a three-month difference between our baby and theirs.) I'd say that those circumstances show that we were more than just casual acquaintances.

After Ryan died, I didn't actively pursue many of my friends for numerous reasons, but mostly because I wanted and needed my own space - room to breathe and distance from everything. And, I certainly don't think that was selfish of me. I needed time to gather my thoughts and deal with my emotions. Who wouldn't need that mental break after a tragedy barges in and destroys their life?

As month after silent month rolled by, I became more convinced that I had lost a dear friend because my baby died. And, the onus wasn't going to be on me to call or contact her. I already had enough on my plate and had made enough involuntary sacrifices, and I've grown tired of chasing friends who won't make the time and effort to behave as friends should.

Last night, though, Mike received a phone call from my friend's husband. This seemed odd to me, given that his wife and I were always the chatty ones, but the husbands didn't exchange much more than a "hi" and "bye" by phone.

Unfortunately, my friend and her husband have fallen on bad times in their relationship and are divorcing. No break-up is pleasant, but apparently their situation is beyond terrible, for numerous reasons.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Who's the shitty friend now? It's come to this, all because I wouldn't swallow a handful of fucking pride and pick of the damn phone. And, I could kick myself for thinking this failed friendship was all about me and what I was going through, rather than stopping to think that maybe other people have shit enter their lives, too, that may prevent them from being the kind of friend that they may want to be.

I hope I don't choke on that pride later today when I call my friend to check on her during her time of need.