Selfish Bastard

In the last few years, there's been a former classmate of mine who only contacts me when he wants something. I thought we were friends, but time has shown me that actually, I am just an endless supply of something good off which he can leech. Donations for a charity ride, but he never responded when I asked how it went. A good word with another acquaintance, with whom he was interviewing. It's a list of "random" hellos--at least that is how he characterizes it, when he contacts me out of the blue to ask me for something.

I thought the last time he called, when he wanted me to help a friend get a job where I worked at the time, I was cold enough to be clear. Also, I was less tolerant than usual, because in "catching up"--that is, sharing a few random facts about himself before asking me for something--he told me how he and his partner were trying to grow their family, and how it was more difficult than expected. I'd just done my first IVF, had my loss. The last thing I wanted to hear about was the travails of this self-absorbed acquaintance. (His partner, mind you, is a saint...I always liked him better, though you aren't supposed to say that.)

Anyway, out of the blue last week, I get another email from him. How am I, and how is DH. It's been so long. Now he wants a job where I work, and if I think it appropriate, would I pass his application materials to the powers that be?

Apparently, that wasn't a request, it was more of an order. Because this week I got another email, clipped and peeved, asking me to please pass the materials on because he wants to know they're getting to the right people. (Just send them yourself, dumb ass--the address is right there on the job advertisement, and it doesn't say "Attn: Former classmate you can leech off.")

I wonder--does this guy KNOW he's contacting me at the most inopportune times? I'm sure not, but still, I relished the response a good friend, who also knows him, sent me. So much so that I had to share it, both because it says what I wish I could say to him, and because it says something very real and raw about my journey in the last few years. So here it is:

Dear John,

I'm sorry that I didn't respond to your email within a time frame that is acceptable to you. I'm sorry I've acted selfishly and that my focus on my own problems has prevented me from appropriately prioritizing your needs.

Now, before you jump to your own defense by asserting that, gosh golly, you didn't realize I was going through a rough time right now, consider this. If you'd made any attempt at all to stay in touch during the times when you didn't need something from me, you'd know that I have been going through hell for the last few years trying to have a baby. You'd know that I've had all manner of people up in my female business, poking and prodding, testing, extracting, and reinserting; it's been painful, humilliating, violating. You'd know that I've had to surrender the idea that the process of creating a new life with my husband would involve any sense of privacy or intimacy. You'd know that I've been taking pills, sticking myself with needles, pumping myself full of hormones and hope. You'd know that my hopes were crushed when I had a miscarriage, that I had to endure a grief you will never know or understand, that I had to find a way to come to terms with that. You'd know that I've been agonizing with elemental questions of who I am as a woman. You'd know that I've had to redefine relationships, and re-draw the boundary lines in some friendships, that I've had to bear the weight of unintentionally cutting remarks and well-meaning but infuriating advice. You'd know that at the time you sent me your materials, that I was once again sticking myself with needles, that I was preparing my body for surgery - the surgery that would leave me in pain, but that would hopefully retrieve the eggs that will make a baby. You'd know that I was mentally preparing myself for what it means if this cycle works, while simultaneously strengthening my mental armor because I know all too well what it means if it doesn't. If you actually treated me like the "friend" that you call me in these once-a-year, "can you do this for me?" emails, you'd know all this.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't be enjoying this so much. But it helped me see two things: this guy has no idea where I am, and this friend knows EXACTLY where I am.