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Storytime!
Years ago, before anyone outside of my personal life knew who I was, I admired an artist/writer who was asking favors of the public. They were well-known in certain circles. (Yes, I am being vague.)
I volunteered to be one of those people who would do the favor. And wow, I went out of my way, which involved hosting an event.
The Artist did not pay me for hosting the event. I bought food, I bought flowers, I cleaned, I decorated.
The Artist arrived late at the event and was harried. They did not thank me for how nice everything looked. After the event, I tried to talk to the Artist, but they were not kind.
Finally, they said, “I can tell you’re trying to be friends with me. But you know, I have enough friends, and I just can’t have any more friends.”
Embarrassed, I tried to buy some merch, secretly hoping I would be gifted a t-shirt for hosting the event. I was not (and paid $25 for the shirt). Later that night, I cried. I said to C, “I’m interesting, right? I’m cool? I’m good to be friends with?”
I did not receive a thank-you note, or any acknowledgement. Months went by. I was invoiced... by email... for the t-shirt. Which I had already paid for.
Anyway, time went by, and I became more known in my own right. And wow! Guess who came out of the woodwork!!!!!! Yep! You guessed it!
The Artist seemed to really want to be friends. It seemed, also, that they genuinely did not remember any of the weird shit they’d done before.
Anyway, I think about The Artist a lot, especially as more people know who I am, and people message and email me, and I genuinely cannot respond to everyone. I am limited in my capacity, especially due to disability.
But I really want to be kind, and I never want to be like that person was to me years ago. I think I will fuck up, and I may have already fucked up, but I will try. I really will and am trying.
I am extremely lucky. I am grateful.
The end.
