by Ethan Johnson
August 1, 2007

In his fantastic monologue Monster in a Box, Spaulding Gray had a bit about being concerned that he had contracted HIV, and wrestles with not wanting to acknowledge this possibility versus facing it head-on. Christian Science, according to Gray, says "to name it is to absolutely [be afflicted by] it." Sigmund Freud, on the other hand, says "to name it is to claim it." Meaning, facing it head-on removes its power. I'm not a huge fan of Freud, but I think he might have been on to something there.

It is timely and a bit spooky that Beth just wrote an enigmatic post about the things she chooses not to write about. I was going back and forth about writing this article, because of the potential embarrassment and emotional powderkeg that this topic might muster. I decided that part of the healing process is to dump my head out here and examine its contents, in hopes of attaining a lasting sense of closure.

What I am building up to is this: I believe that at long last, I have received the closure with "Flower Pot Annie" that I never expected in my lifetime. People who know me, and her, and are lurking about on this site may know who I am talking about. Names are not necessary to make my points.

I can't stress enough, for all of the good that does me, what a colossal ass I made of myself on FPA's account. I really don't want to recap exactly what that entailed. But I wondered why closure with her outweighed potential closure with anyone else. I think the answer is, I didn't have the sort of emotional connection/damage with anyone else that I associated with FPA. I have been in contact with people who knew both of us in our youth, and had no idea there was any sort of friction, or ass-making on anyone's part. I was sure that everyone knew and quite frankly, it turned me off to ever attending a class reunion. When I learned that FPA wasn't going either, I assumed that it was because she didn't want to see me ever again (because of course, everything revolves around me and there couldn't be any other rationale for skipping a reunion - sigh). It never ceases to amaze me how much of a mountain we can make things out to be up in our heads, without much basis in reality. Nevertheless, based on past experiences it seemed rational to me.

It was rather therapeutic to read a post by Andrea Learned about her experience with a recent class reunion. She had skeletons of her own that she dreaded to be confronted with, only to learn that the majority of her classmates had no recollection of her shameful secret, and/or didn't give it much thought post-graduation. This gave me hope about possibly attending the upcoming high school reunion, because I really do want to see as many of the people from my past as possible, but ideally without suiting up and traveling 900 miles to be treated to an emotional throttling for however many hours. At least there would be an open bar. Probably for that reason.

It was also jarring and helpful to hear former classmates ask me why I wasn't attempting to contact FPA as part of my reunion bounty hunting (where finding people is its own reward) activities. Truth is, I was, but after an email that went unanswered for months and the inability to make phone contact (high creep factor, I'm sure, but I blame Freud) suggested to me that perhaps closure was not to be had. Ever.

And what was closure going to be? How would I know it if it came about? I decided that if we could make contact through any means, and successfully exchange even a civil sentence between us, that would be enough.

I will pause here to note that the last time I ever saw FPA in person she gave me the worst of all death looks. I still remember it. I don't want to, but it's the sort of thing one doesn't just forget lightly. And despite my earlier attempts to get over all of that history once and for all, the fact is, it wasn't going to happen without actually trying to make amends. Again, where "amends" is defined as "we can exchange even one civil word between us." I have another classmate where I feel raging guilt about how downright nasty I (and my friends) were to her, but it's a different kind of regret, and when we had a civil (and actually very pleasant) conversation I felt some small measure of redemption. In her case, I'm thinking success was the best revenge, and I am thankful that she has carried on in spite of all that came before.

As for FPA, I have been fighting tidal waves of regret and frustration - not with her, but directed at myself - that despite my best efforts could not be self-addressed. A friend offered to intervene and to my dismay got an immediate response where mine had gone unanswered. I tried to leverage that correspondence to evoke a reponse, and received nothing.

22+ years later, I felt hated.

I fell into a deep depression for a few days. Marlena had a busy schedule and didn't have time to really talk about it, so I waved her off with a "fine" and "nothing" when she tried to probe why I was so mopey. I hated doing that, but I figured the post-it note version wasn't going to cut it. And I needed to work some stuff out on my own.

Just as I completely resigned myself to never getting that closure I longed for, it came. It came in the form of a terse yet civil sentence in an email. And that, I concluded, was to be the end of it.

Me being me, of course, I decided to take the Freud thing one step further and replied back.

And I got a much longer, friendlier reply.

And she told me I was a good writer.

I cried.

I am running an awful risk that she might read all of this and be utterly disgusted by all of this emotional nonsense. I truthfully don't care if she ever reads this. We may never physically cross paths ever again. But FPA, if you read this, I hope I am forgiven, and I thank you, deeply, for freeing me from this awful hurt I have burdened myself with for far too long. Life is too short, and I am finally free, really free, to enjoy mine.

And that, my friends, is closure. <EM>