Go Tom

You know, I'm having trouble accepting a word of Tom's response, as yet again, it is so totally self-focused that it doesn't even make a passing attempt to take into account the differences in what he & I might have been doing.

For the passed twelve months, at least, Tom has sat around and done nothing, absolutely nothing, other than scream Me, Me, Me, to anyone who cared to listen, while I have, on quite a number of weeks, worked 7 days a week, pretty much. Now I don't expect anything for having worked so hard, that was my thing and my choice and it should mean nothing to anyone else, however, at the same time, I don't expect to be criticised for the times I haven't had time to put into other people.

Tom spends his whole life focused on Tom, financed by his parents, usually pepped up or slowed down as his desires take him and woe betide any one who...

... oh, who cares? Why am I even spending energy on this? Get fucked Tom! You are sooo deluded. It makes me furious!

This is the email I wrote in response, which I'm not going to send. I'm going to just sit back and breath, instead and just let time do it's thing... whatever that might be.

I think your hysterical reaction over the last couple of weeks (months) is bullshit. I think you’re most recent email is bullshit, too.

As far as your pathetic whine about your birthday is concerned, I have already addressed that but, just for the record, I had a dinner on that night that had been organised for six months, quite possibly a year, which is a standing Xmas date with a group of friends I have known since we were teenagers together. I’m sorry I didn't drop that for something that had been organised a few weeks previously on a whim. Apart from the late hour, I couldn't have come afterwards as I was with Mark and Luke, who you did not invited to your birthday. Now, I know it is your style to dump people for a better offer, but it isn't mine. And quite frankly with the preceding few months in mind, I’d rather have been with Mark and Luke, anyway.

As far as the dinner at Rachel’s is concerned, Josh invited you to that, not me. I had no intention of inviting you.

And as for Throb, you do make me laugh. I had invited you earlier in the day, in exactly the same way that I/we/you have ever organised to go to Throb, on nearly every other occasion. That complain is the most laughable, dare I say self-obsessed.

It must be very easy to sit in judgment when you sit on your arse doing nothing. It must make it easy to criticise others and be blind to how much more they do than you. I’m very sorry that your world doesn't extend beyond the end of your nose.

And no, I have barely seen Guido and on the few occasions that I have, let me assure you, your name hasn't even been mentioned. It has been your other friends who have been aching to, lining up to, enthusiastically wanting to, tell me about your spiralling drug use.

I don’t think…maybe, you (don’t) lie about your drug use, but I think you can be very deluded about it. No, I'm sorry, I think you lie about it.

I’m sorry I have disappointed you so much. Consequently, at the close of this email I will not be responding any further, either by phone or email or any other means. Have a nice life, buddy. Thanks for the good times, we had some, hey.

But I didn't send. (That last paragraph is pretty final and pretty brutal, even for me) I decided to stop being childish and to just give it some distance. Sometimes it is as cathartic just writing a response, delivering it isn't always essential.

But it is how it has made me feel. I could send it, finishing at, "...I will not be responding any further." (end) Silence, for a while.

If it's true and he has finally slipped into health mode, he'll be apologising with in weeks, in a week. We'll see.