It was simply a disaster.
Well ok maybe not. It happened a few days ago and even though it is trivial, it really stuck a note in my throat. It makes me miss how it used to be.. Yet with all things, some things get worse, and some get better.
Last Thursday (also the last day that I remember seeing my driver\’s license), I drove all the way to Santa Clara to see April. She is working at Yahoo and I had thought that Santana Row would be close enough for her. (It turned out to be a 35 minute drive, but she was ok with that.)
But let\’s backtrack for a moment. I first met April in my linguistics class. We hit it off because we were in the same study group. And we lived a few blocks from each other in the southside. I enjoyed her sarcasm and thought it was incredibly hilarious. She was a breath of fresh air from all the other friends I had. Of course, during this time (and even now), I was always on edge with people who made me feel like they were judging me. She was one of them, but she was cool to be around even though I felt like I had to choose my words carefully.
I sat through her entire commencement and waved as she waved to me. I bought her a hawaiian lei. I went with her family around campus to take pictures. Then she went to work. I had one year left. We kept in touch a bit then. Less than before because we were busy with our own lives. My drama. Her drama. She wasn\’t the kind that appreciated my incredible nonsensical ongoings in my life, so I censored that. We talked more about light things. We went shopping once in Valley Fair just to see my ex. And then a few meetings here and there. Yet I sensed that we were realizing how we didn\’t mesh that well.
She went to my commencement that following May. Then she had to leave. Then that was it. We talked a few times over the course of the following year since I was in Pittsburgh too involved in my own things. Eventually though, we started talking a little bit more when she told me she had participated in an Asian American Idol contest. I had voted her to make sure she would stay in even though I hadn\’t really seen her sing.
Then she made a fuss about how I didn\’t see her last time I was in the Bay Area–both during winter break and my short visit in April. So when I came back in August for a week, I worked out a dinner into my schedule.
So there I was in Santana Row with April in front of Straits Cafe. A trendy asian wannabe type restaurant. Loud and dark. She had forgotten that I didn\’t drink. That made me slightly nervous after I said that we could walk around the area instead. The upper class style of Santana Row made me nervous. I felt like I didn\’t belong, that I was a fake, a wananabe in this place. I don\’t know why I led judging to get to me, but I viewed Straits Cafe as one of those happening places for mid-twenties to early thirties. Large gatherings. Pseudo-happy people. Eventually we came back and sat near a fountain. We tumbled over many awkward silences. She didn\’t agree with my idea of living in the City. I talked with her about her clubbing days, almost reluctantly.
Then we finally got seated. I got this incredible uncomfortable feeling. I couldn\’t wait to leave. She didn\’t laugh at any of my mild jokes. So that\’s ok. I felt so sheltered. I stupidly decided to talk about me not having \”dated\” for more than a year, because I felt uncomfortable \”dating\” anyone in my program. And to my surprise, she jumped on it and tore it apart. There was a slight moment of silence after she basically said that I was too judgmental and worried too much. We talked about lighter things, but I felt so antsy. I was relieved when the check came. At first, I was going to pay for the entire dinner, but after our awkward conversations, I didn\’t feel like I had the generosity anymore.
At the door of Straits Cafe, I told April that I had parked on Olin. She gestured to her right, the parking lot next to the restaurant, saying that she should go that way. We gave a short quick hug. The superficial kind with a quick pat on the back. And we parted.
I was distraught afterwards, depressed that our friendship obviously had changed. And then i was slightly bitter that I drove all the way South for this purpose. No more of that. And did I really worry too much?
Worry. Worry. Worry.
Luckily though, not many of my other friendships have taken such a sour turn. After cmu, I feel like I have gotten more immature, more childish (as encouraged by my classmates in my program)…and always forward-thinking. And worse of all, more worried and more nervous.