The friendship I was trying to resurrect was a worthless endeavor, and it pains me so much to say it, because I don’t mean that I got so angry that I don’t love her anymore. I mean that she has every bit the inner landscape that I do… more so, even. When that inner landscape became threatened (on both sides), we each did things to push each other away that cannot be fixed. The reason that it is so incredibly permanent is that we are first children. I don’t know what that will mean for her, but I can tell you exactly what it means to me.

For the purposes of this essay, we’ll call her Tony just so I have a name instead of long blank spaces. That’s boring.

The long and short of it is that because our inner landscapes were threatened, we can never go back to being leslie and tony. There are too many defenses to keep that from ever happening again, especially as voices across the Internet with no context *other* than that. We needed each other desperately when this started, and now the mission is over.

She told me that she had enough to worry about in her actual physical life to worry that she was dragging me in, too. I feel exactly the same way, and also, fuck that noise. I didn’t love her like she was virtual. I loved her because we’re not related by blood, but we might as well be. The piece that you don’t know is that Dana has known her since she was a little girl, so that’s why there’s no thing about me being absolutely, 100%, over-the-top in love with someone’s mind that is not Dana’s. She knows Tony. They’ve met. Let’s just say Dana thinks that my attention is………. justified. πŸ˜›

Or, well, it was until it became too much, too close, too fast. Neither of us were breathing through the choices we were making, just allowing each other an all-access pass.

Or were we?

As time wore on, it became clear that something was very, very wrong. I was still leslie, and she had become Tony, Trademark. tony was gone.

I allowed her to walk around in my inner landscape because I *thought* she was letting me walk around in hers. Turns out, I only have a very surface perspective and I would like to keep it that way. I cannot know any more because I do not want surface platitudes. I want her inner landscape, and it was seeing my entire world disappear when she said that what I knew wasn’t really much at all.

While she knew everything. Everything.

When you are friends with me, the moment you start walling off your feelings, I’m out. I’ve been in that relationship before, except that time, I was never told that I wasn’t getting the whole story and waited around for a quarter of a century before I figured it out on my own. This relationship is different because when tony started paying attention to me, it was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I smiled like I’d been knighted. I’m not sure exactly what she does for a living, but it’s something Olivia Pope-ish. Who doesn’t want to know Olivia Pope? Who doesn’t want to crawl around inside her brain like it’s a transistor radio?

The thing I liked about being tony and leslie was getting to know popcorn and wine Olivia, and not the GLADIATOR in a SUIT.

All of that went away when the fixer broke me. It cracked my reality. You mean I have given you access to anything and everything and you’ve repaid me with telling me a version of the truth?

No. No. No.

It feels too close, too personal, too beautiful a way to keep me on a leash, wondering if tony will ever reappear.

I am cutting my losses to save my sanity, because I feel violated. I feel like I did everything to become a powerful woman’s secret-keeper, because she told me that publicly, we had no connections beyond Facebook. What I realized last night is that I’m not sure it ever should have been more than that, because we each torched each other as only first children can, because we’re both exceptional at it.

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