My most painful breakup wasn't romantic
Issue 130
Hello friend, welcome to Scrap Facts. I’m Katherine, and I’m glad you’re here.
This month last year, I flew into Minneapolis, Minnesota for a trip I had been excited about since its inception a few months before: I was visiting my long-distance best friend, Ash, who’s name I’m changing for privacy.
Our friendship was coincidental, but deep: We met virtually through a month-long challenge our shared running/community group put on in January 2021. We were co-captains of a team of a handful of athletes. Our job was to casually, but intentionally, encourage our group to get outside for any kind of movement in the chilly winter months.
After the challenge, we both remained heavily involved in the same group in our respective cities, and eventually both took over leadership. What started as a light commitment over email quickly turned into daily texting, voice memoing, and FaceTime calls.
The first time we met in person was that 11 months later, when Ash showed me the ropes of Minneapolis before we traveled together to a meet up of all the co-leaders of our running group in San Diego. It was there that we got our first matching tattoo.
After we solidified our in-person friendship, we planned trips to see each other roughly twice a year for major life events. Ash came to my wedding, and even talked me through some pre-wedding jitters. We came to each others’ last workouts as co-leaders of the running group that brought us together, I came to Ash’s first marathon in New York, and Ash planned a whole east coast visit around the time I had my vision corrected with PRK (afterward, we got our second matching tattoo.) We referred to each other as platonic soulmates and were never shy about expressing our love for each other.
This trip was the first time we would have seen each other since December of the previous year. We called it “They/Them Mayhem.” The crew, also with names changed, was as follows:
Ash (they/them), long-distance bestie.
Andrea (they/them), a newish friend of Ash’s, also from Minnesota. I had met them once before.
Nora (she/her), a newish friend of Ash’s from D.C. Nora is a gorgeous queer woman, and at the time was newly out. I had only met her a handful of times in D.C., but she and Ash had met at a running event a few months prior and hit it off
And me!
The plan was to drive up to a campsite outside Grand Marais, Minnesota—a village on the northern edge of Lake Superior and just about 20 minutes from Canada by car. Ash, Andrea, and I would drive up and camp for a few days by ourselves, using Ash’s car and either Ash’s or their friends’ gear. Nora would join us later for the back half of the trip.
The campsite was beautiful. The sounds were my favorite, along with the night sky so clear you could actually spot satellites. As an east coaster, I still cannot even fathom the vastness of the Great Lakes, even as I skipped rocks into Lake Superior.
There were, of course, some discomforts. For example, I knew there would be bugs. It’s camping, and the running joke in Minnesota is that the state bird is actually a mosquito. I also knew it would be colder than in D.C., thanks to geography and the Weather app, but I still managed to underpack—not to a dangerous degree, but just enough to be constantly uncomfortable. And we were so far out of the way of civilization there was 0 cell service.
None of these little inconveniences amounted to much. That’s just the outdoors, baby! The point was to experience it, discomforts and all, with my bestie.
Except something was off there, too.
On one of the early days in the car, I used Ash’s last name when addressing them. They had changed their Instagram handle to feature it, and I had heard softball teammates use it for them.
Would you just stop calling me that? They snapped. The car became silent. I apologized and said of course, I’d call them whatever they wanted. I was taken aback by their intensity, and embarrassed that I had screwed up—especially when I had known them for 3 years, the longest of anyone else on the trip.
There were other things, too. It turned out that both Andrea and I were equally unskilled in carrying out camping tasks—or at least camping tasks the way they needed to be done here with all of Ash’s gear. Ash seemed fine to teach Andrea, but when I tried to pitch in, they’d simply huff and just take over. I felt embarrassed and awkward, like everything about me was wrong. Once, I tried to make a cheese sandwich using a pepper jack, and Ash called me out again. That’s for a special breakfast I’ll make when Nora arrives! I put it back and apologized again.
I thought that maybe, they were anxious about Nora’s arrival. I knew she had been confiding in Ash about being newly out and leaving her ex. Ash had developed a bit of a crush, and this camping trip was a chance for them to become closer.
When Nora arrived, though, things soured more. Sitting around the campfire, Nora shared that she had a new partner. The conversation quickly wrapped up after that, and we all went to bed. The next day, Nora asked me if she had been talking too much about herself; she had noticed Ash’s mood too, and wondered if it had to do with her.
I told her what I had been telling myself: Ash had a lot going on in their life right now: a foot injury that slowed them down, a need for a well-deserved pay raise, and they were thinking through where they want to live in the next few years. It’s probably just stress, I told her.
I thought maybe the dynamic would change; maybe I could comfort Ash, and our relationship would go back to the way it was. But somehow, it only got worse for me.
Even boo’d up, Nora quickly became the group favorite. She was very experienced in all things outdoors and brought a recorder to play music and a special laser pointer to call out planets in the night sky. Andrea took on a bit of a little sibling/comedic relief role and made everyone giggle. But I continued to be Wrong, and I couldn’t figure out why.
On one of our last days at the campsite before heading back to the city for a few days, we took a trip out to go see a waterfall. After pointedly ignoring me all day, I finally asked Ash if there was anything I could do to make their experience better. They sighed.
Your whole vibe is just really annoying, they said.
I knew it wasn’t in my head, but this confirmed it with a punch to the gut.
I didn't know how to respond. All right, I said, I guess we don't have to go camping together again and tried to calm myself down before getting into the car again.
But after a week of feeling a combination of physical and emotional discomfort, Ash’s words triggered a volcano of emotions. On our way back to the campsite, tears welled in my eyes. I finally exploded.
Why are you treating me like someone you hate? I yelled. I’m not someone you hate! When we got to the campsite, I swore, slammed the car door, and stomped off to cry alone.
At dinner, I apologized to the group for losing my temper and slamming the car door. I knew I shouldn’t have done that. Ash still wouldn’t talk to me, but the others thanked me and carried on.
I cried as I did the dishes and resolved to try again. Ash and I still had four days together; we had to make this right. I asked Ash what I could do to help them put this aside, given that we had so much time left in each other's company.
They puffed up and snapped back. I hate that you asked me that. You're just people pleasing again. This is why you’re annoying.
Once again, I was shocked. I ran away to go brush my teeth.
We kind of made up that night. Ash heard me crying in the tent I was sharing with Andrea and came in. We cry-hiccupped over how stupid this whole thing was and eventually we all fell asleep. But nothing was the same after that.
The rest of the trip we were civil to each other in a group setting. On my last day when it was just Ash and I, I thought we'd talk about the space between us. But after breakfast they dropped me off at a lake because they said they weren't feeling well. (To be fair, they had picked up a cold.)
The last time we spoke was when they dropped me off at the airport, other than a perfunctory “thank you” when I Venmo’d them for incidentals from the trip.
I was crushed. For months, I went over the trip again and again in my head, trying to figure out where I had gone wrong. I was hurt by the way Ash treated me, but Ash insisted it was my job to take care of my own emotions. That’s true, but does it apply when someone else is the instigator?
Maybe I am the villain, I said to anyone who would listen. Maybe I’m both really annoying and an angry monster. Even now, I’m still not sure. A year later, this is the story as I remember it. But I know that no narrator is completely reliable, my own memory included.
A mutual friend gently pointed out that for better or for worse, Ash gravitates toward shiny, new people—like Andrea and Nora, whom they had known for mere months—compared to our relationship of a few years. This friend and I had both had seen Ash grow close to and then quickly drop others, but I didn’t think they’d do that to me.
The same friend also pointed out that Ash is often too proud to reach out first. After six months, I texted them on their birthday to say I missed them, and I wished them well. I got no response.
To date, this is my most painful breakup. I think it’s the combination of being both intense and non-romantic—or at least as non-romantic as any queer friendship can be. We have a script for what happens when things don’t work out with a partner, and it usually involves our friends helping us pick up the pieces. But what do we do when things don’t work out with those friends?
But after moving through my grief, I’ve finally come to a place of acceptance. Ash is who they are, and there’s no point in resenting them for it. It’d be like resenting the mosquitos for being hungry, or Minnesota for being chilly in June, or the wilderness for being wild.
What else have I been up to?
I hosted the 20th anniversary of “Brokeback Mountain” at Alamo this week. It ripped my heart out, but at least I was among pals.
I also told a live version of this story at the Rewind this month. Huge thanks to the crew for welcoming me, and shout out to my pal Chelsea for introducing me to this crew and sharing her joy of storytelling with me.
I’ve been in a bit of a reading rut this month but I think that’s just because I’ve been spending more time outside. Still, the best thing I read was Greta and Valdin by Rebecca K. Reilly. I laughed out loud at least three times, and I was also deeply touched.
I’ve also been working my way through all six Jurassic Park movies in anticipation of the next one coming out. I love a giant creatures, what can I say?
The more I’ve watched, the more I’ve formed a genuine curiosity about them. Shout out to the DC Public Library for enabling my new (really, really old) obsession—I will report back!
Follow me on Storygraph for more of my recent reads.
Follow me on Instagram for the rest of my life.
That’s all for now. Stay curious, friend! ❤️
If you’re new here, welcome. This newsletter came about from my health reporter days when I wanted to find a way to give life to the fascinating tidbits that got cut from my stories. Now it’s evolved into a space where I write about what I learn wherever I can.
FWIW I love your vibe. You are not too much. You know yourself. You take accountability. These and about a million other things make you the incredible, beautiful person you are.