In which we talk about the emotional one.

There are three sections I categorize my male friends under. A, the type who can’t stop talking about how much alcohol I can guzzle. B, the type who assume the role of the protector, and can’t stop talking about how insane or mad I am. And C – the ones who are genuinely happy for me, and cant stop talking about why I should not be afraid.

–

JT and I have known each other for the longest time. We are very different people and if and when you find us in the same room, you would be surprised we even know each other. And in any case, we haven’t spent much time together in the same place, but phone calls and emails always worked. For everyone. Over years we grew close. Hell, he even knew my password at one point of time. I did confide in him to get an opinion, to get the occasional reassurance.

JT takes the role of the protector seriously. He worries about my well being, worries about who I meet and worries about how long I stay out and how much I drink. He even worries about what I write on my blog, and if I indeed am in trouble. Much more than PD. PD has a sense of trust in me, JT doesn’t. I thought being married would change it all for him, that he will be busy with his wife and times. Doesn’t seem to have done a thing. Needless to say, when I informed him I was doing this trip thing on my own, he freaked out. Needless to say, he was the last person I dared to inform. He asked me four hundred questions of hows and whys and how-could-you and why-should-I. Needless to say, it upset me to no end. Because I assumed he would be happy for me.

–

So during the trip, I made the (fatal?) mistake of sending him my phone number to inform I was safe and sound. Which started a barrage of texts and phone calls at odd hours – real late nights, real early mornings.

I accidentally left my phone at home one day, came back to see 6 texts all of which said “I am freaking out here, there is noone I know who is with you, call me back, text me back, why did you have to do this?”. I called him back the next day, a little unsettled, and said “I am fine. Safe. And, I assumed you would be happy for me”.

Then that day, in the height of all that excitement, there were only two people in the world I wanted to share it with (PD not being one of them! And sorry Retro, I didn’t have your phone number). JT called, I screamed on top of the crowds’ euphoria saying he will have to call back in 10 for it was all madness and that I really want to tell him what was going on. Like, give him a live feed. He texted back saying he is freaking out, he is worried about me getting back home. He didn’t pause for a second. I assumed, he wasn’t happy for me.

That did it for me. I called him back in ten, and fought back. People around me assumed I was fighting with my boyfriend. After which, I didn’t take his calls, or reply to his texts. Occasionally 6-7 would come at one go. Some would threaten. Some would say “Screw you. Goodbye”. I didn’t reply. I didn’t pick up the phone. I did a mean thing, I know, but it was getting too much for me to deal with. And I wanted a peaceful 7 days.

He is like family. And family is entitled to obsess. But more than anything, he is a friend, and it bothers me to see that I can’t be honest to him. That I am so afraid of him.

And I really am not sure if I need to explain to him. I have no siblings, so I am not sure how this elderbrotherlylove thing works (Post idea: Retro). I feel 28. Old enough to not inform people constantly of my whereabouts. To PD, maybe. My parents should have realized by now that it’s an impossible task. (I left home roughly 10 years ago) And I realize, again, that people (family or otherwise) will do this to me only if I give them the liberty to believe I am answerable to them. Constantly.

I know this too shall pass. We will patch up and apologize. But I am heartbroken, somewhat.

And in a moment, I have figured what really makes a friendship tick: it’s honesty. You can have selective truths in a marriage, but not in a friendship. I should have the guts to tell you everything. Don’t get me wrong, I want you to worry. I want you to care. I want you to ask if I am doing fine. But all that shouldn’t take over the one premise that’s precious in friendships, that I want to very unselfishly share my emotions and experiences sans fear.

PS: There is no reason to be proud of me for having gone on a trip alone. (My mother now claims, she is ashamed of me) There were 20 other <25 year olds. At least at my age I can pay my way out of troubles.