Not Ready to Talk
When grief over a dead friend collides with resentment toward the living one who wants details.
Last month, I lost a friend I’d known since high school. Back then, a small group of us would spend hours at the arcade (back when that was still a thing), catch movies, and do all the usual teenage stuff together.
Now one of those old friends wants “to talk,” and I find myself missing his calls and avoiding him. I feel conflicted. He was a good friend, and I’m sure he wants the details—what really happened.
I asked Christi about it, and she said simply, “You’re not ready to talk.” She suggested telling him I’ll talk, but not about our friend. That advice eased something in me; my body relaxed, and I could actually picture myself doing it.
Then a random, almost childish thought popped up: “He doesn’t get to know all the details. Where the hell was he all these years?”
I keep wondering… was that it? Were my feelings just hurt? Maybe they were. I always tried to keep in touch, calling on birthdays, trying to resurrect dying friendships while others let them fade. Maybe I’m angry at this guy who used to be so close and now just wants a casual update on what “really happened.” Or maybe I’m angry at myself for not having a deeper relationship with the friend who just passed.
There was so much left unsaid between us. One of my exes once joked, “You guys probably have a ton of secrets between you!” The truth is, we didn’t. We never really poured our hearts out. We spoke in circles and analogies, skating around facts and anything that would be “emotional.”
Maybe I’m just pissed because, in the end, I don’t know the real story either—and now I never will. That silence feels heavier than I expected. Perhaps this avoidance isn’t only about protecting my peace from the living friend; it’s also about sitting with the unfinished business I have with the one who’s gone.
Grief and regret have a way of showing up together, dressed in the same old anger.
For now, I’m letting myself feel it without forcing a conversation I’m not ready for. Some stories stay half-told, and maybe that’s okay.
Live Long and Prosper ,🖖
-Dan