The Trouble With Tom

I think I have decided to dump Tom as a friend. (well, maybe) Funny to see that in print, as we have been best friends for so many years. We've been around the world together. We have lived together. We have been great mates.

It all started a couple of months ago when Tom left a message on my answering machine - midday Wednesday, when he knew I was @ work - saying that I wasn't paying him enough attention and that I had better start being a better friend. This was out of the blue, nothing, that I could discern, had changed. Just Tom.

I've been through years of chemotherapy with him, lived through him nearly dying, twice. And previous to that we'd been the wickedest of friends, charming and scaring people in equally measures.

But, you see, it has always been about Tom, his best and worst features rolled into one. It was always a part of his charm, as he is clever and funny with it, winning more hearts than he lost.

But over the last few months he has withdrawn so obviously from me, at the same time blaming the separation on me, as my fault. And now, I think, we have wandered off into "playing games land" where he is not contacting me at all, waiting to see how long it takes for me to contact him. We used to talk daily. It's weird.

And I'm over it!

Over the Xmas break, the only interaction with him was me getting stuff from Guido for him, as he had - as is his way - interfered in his guy, P's, private life, causing P's boyfriend to dump him, as far as P is concerned, anyway, that P told him that he was pure evil and to never contact him again. I mean, that was okay, I was happy to do it, but his method of pick up just left me wondering. He stayed just long enough to grab the stuff and to make three calls, telling whoever was on the other end that he was looking for some where to drop in to visit for a while. Then he left with barely a thank you, just a grunt out of sight as he headed for the door.

So now - childishly, I acknowledge - I'm going to withdraw contact. Probably, for just a while, probably to prove some pathetic, fucked up point, but silence is what he's getting.

I think he is bored, I don't think he has enough to do, I think he is hanging around just filling in time, but I'm not going to be the whipping boy for his frustration.

He has said to me on a few occasions that he is frightened that all the chemotherapy has affected his brain and that I should tell him if I notice him doing anything odd.

Well, Tom...

We'll see. I'm sure it won't end up in not being friends any more, we've known each other for too long for that. But if it does, thanks for all the good times, buddy.

And stooping to an even more childish level, (I can't believe I'm writing this. I think I am more upset by this than I am letting on) I was the last one to email and I was the last one to phone. Just for the record.