Did you ever have a rich friend who gave you money? This happened to me. I had a good friend who I fell in love with–she inherited a fortune out of the blue. We had a friendship for some years. She was brilliant, creative, beautiful–a small queer woman, fierce and challenging.
We’re not friends anymore because her harm ocd got really bad. She was calling me every day about ocd stuff, and I couldn’t handle it. Her frenzied reliance was getting on me, and too much else was going on. I couldn’t set good boundaries, so I just pulled away.
Then a mutual frenemy used me as a pawn in some negotiations, in an unauthorized way, and I think that rich friend doesn’t even like me anymore. The frenemy messed it all up.
At certain times of year, my rich friend would have extra money. I think her wealth would produce more wealth at that time–dividends? Wealth babies?
For some reason it was beneficial for her to give it away. I got a couple random thousand dollar checks in the mail. For my birthday, she gave me copious Safeway gift cards and stamps, some years. One or two thousand dollars in gift cards.
It was a special feeling. “I could buy any groceries I wanted,” was bliss. I felt like my third eye chakra was opening and golden light was shining out. It was a unique blessing, to feel very rich in a specific way, during a time of otherwise poverty.
When my spouse and I were driving to visit my rich friend, a long drive, she gave me two thousand dollars for the trip–hotels, gas, food. It was so relaxing to have enough money. To have more than enough. Some people say, “More money, more problems.” But we enjoyed it.
She also bought me a used car–that was almost four thousand dollars. That was extremely helpful, while I was applying for disability. My old car died–it was so old, the gaskets on the engine were going. It would still drive, but it spewed steam. That car was vintage!
My spouse ended up totaling the used car my friend bought for us, some years ago, but it was the best car I ever had. It was zippy and a beautiful blue, back when I learned to love blue after a lifetime of hating it.
Now my spouse has a rich friend. They’re going for a walk at a park this morning. My spouse was broody, pondering the visit.
“You know, it was last Thanksgiving that ______ gave me that check for a thousand dollars,” he told me.
“Oh,” I said. “No, I didn’t remember it was Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah,” he said. He seemed troubled.
“Are you afraid he’s going to give you a thousand dollars again?” I asked.
“No, I’m not afraid,” he said.
That situation is weird because my spouse’s friend is estranged from his kid. So my spouse is like the substitute kid, one who actually cares and will see the guy. The age difference isn’t right, but it doesn’t matter.
“That would be cool if you got a thousand dollars today,” I told my spouse. “We could use it for that trip.” I want to go to my homeland really bad.
I was carrying something to the car. It’s suddenly cold here–I was wearing a tank top like usual, but with pants and a knit hat.
“Oh, but the money would be for you, not me. You could do anything you wanted with it,” I said. “Oh, but the trip is for you too. We’ll see your kids and your mom.”
This post is not about sex. It’s about love and family though, which are also big themes of this falling into the blissful sublime blog.
Rich friends who give you money and buy you cars–it’s not polite conversation, right? So I talk about it here, more anonymously.
We had someone else buy us a car one time too. Money can’t buy you love, but it can buy you trips, vehicles, gas, food, and a fuckton of postage.