i won't acknowledge the score but just know that i know it

it's not that i want it to be 50/50 but it would be nice if it at least *felt* that way

in the summer of 2022, while texting with a friend at the time, i shared some brief news about “i love you, prove me wrong” - it was i believe the first time i had shared any sort of collection of photos selected for the project with anyone. i was scared. i felt really exposed. there was instantly something really strange about sharing a body of work that you had this intention of publishing in print vs a “photo dump” on instagram. this was very much me exposing myself. their reaction.. “Really good! Sobs” - this was someone i had looked up to. this was someone who i from my perspective supported me and i them. i tried really really hard to ride for them. to support what they were working on. and not just in private but very publicly. this conversation took place in august, a month later i would go to make the final selection of images for the project. a month after that, i published the book. my first one. let me say that again, in a different way. “i self published my first coffee table photo book, a collection of images shot on film, on location in paris france.”

when the day came, i posted on instagram that it was now available. the link was live and i was beyond thrilled in this moment. just days prior my best friend ryan had reminded me that this was years in the making, not just the months spent earlier in the year photographing for it. prior to its release, my dear friend and in full honesty, the person i sort of look to in almost all aspects of my creative to give a thumbs up or thumbs down as to where i’m at with something, helped me decide on 360 copies of its release as a metaphor for coming full circle as a photographer and as an artist. these two men helped me with the utmost care and love while i worked on this. ryan came in to town from florida with his wife maria for the launch party. tamon surprised me and caught a last minute flight from atlanta, came straight from the airport to the party. long story short, these are guys who i never doubt the score with. our friendships are so secure that it almost feels silly to even keep score but its this sort of perfect example to me of what to look for in a connection and to be even more specific have become the standard of what it means to show up for your people.

the list of people in my life that i could write about in this regard is endless, we’d be here forever. but they are important to me and a line in a substack isnt going to change my standing with them. i cared so much about the impact these people had on my life i put their name in the back of my book under the thank you page. and the above text person’s name is in that list of names. but if i released a second edition, we’d make some changes. and that hurts me. it hurts me to think i was wronged. it hurts me to have been blindsided by a lack of care. it hurts still to this day. it hurts to realize people don’t care about you the way you thought they did. that above interaction eats at me. i think i’ve written about this before in some capacity but there’s this drake line on redemption where he says “certain people need to tell me they’re proud of me” - and that line could not apply to me more. it’s tough because its so wonderful to hear but when it comes out of left field from an unsuspecting direction or person i cant help but to feel skeptical now. its this feeling of, its hard to believe what you say because ive seen how you acted.

as this moment and loss of friendship has gone on, ive thought often to just pick up the phone. make the call, ask what happened. ask what you did wrong. ask if there was something you did to upset them. but often times, before i do i talk myself out of it because why does it have to be me? why do i have to chase them? where’s the balance? where was the “congrats!” text, phone call, tweet? ffs, ive seen you thank dtc coffee companies for sending you two cans of coffee nobodies ever gonna actually purchase in a shoppy shop, (shout out emily sundberg) - like damn, you couldn’t even post a link for a friend?

this is all so silly huh? no, it isn’t. but that’s what the person who is giving 20% of the friendship hopes you think. “so sorry, just seeing this” we’re all guilty of it. im guilty in the past and i’ll be guilty in the future. i’m not perfect, i promise you i am not. i don’t know what solution is, i don’t know if its silly to even expect 50/50. as i began writing this piece, very self reflect-ivy, i started scrolling my “un-read texts” doing a sort of assessment of why there was even a single blue dot next to someone who i care about enough to apply a name, hell even a nick name to in my phone. “carl, wtf is wrong with you bud, just reply.” almost sort of perfect to be debating the idea of worrying about a 50/50 when there’s someone waiting on a reply to a “How’s everything been?”

i know i know. very hypocritical of me. but this is not about who texts back faster or even at all. its deeper. its about those friendships that felt like family that hurt the most. the ones with the instant bond. the ones where you feel the loss, you notice the gaps. tamon once texted me “bro, you just be texting me for no reason. i love it.” - and thats me. thats the friend i want to be. i don’t want you to ever wonder where we stand. i don’t want you to feel like i’m not there. i can’t be there for hundred people physically but emotionally, i’m right behind you always. it would hurt me too much not to be. i have this thing that i say to myself which is “if the people in your life were in the fight of their life turned around “metaphorically” would they see you in their corner? that’s not on me to decide, but it is on me to give them the hope.

i think about ways to do this without being so abrasive or feeling like they need to pull away from what they’re doing to tend to me or us. post a story about your coffee? guess what i’m gonna heart that thing. a fit check in the mirror before you go on a date? i’m gonna heart it. the book you’re reading, that im never gonna pick up? yeah, im hearting that. i’m not flirting with you, im just here to let you know i see you.

that’s all this really is. i so deeply want to feel seen. i don’t need to be told and i don’t need you to stop what you’re doing but how you express vision is how the people in your life will feel seen. i want my friends to know i see them and i so desperately want to feel seen. i admit it, im not above it and for the first time in my life, i’m not ashamed of admitting it. i said recently to my therapist, “i used to be ashamed of being this way but nowadays i’m proud of myself for understanding who i am.”

to know yourself is to know who you can be. i care about that deeply. knowing where i fall flat helps me understand where i need to stand up. i want to say this again, i am not perfect. i am still flat in many areas of my life but im learning to grow. i know i can’t expect a text for a text, i know people are busy i know that the score really isn’t worth keeping as much as i may be making it seem but maybe the way to summarize this all is would be to say, everyone knows the score of a game they play even without looking at the scoreboard. no matter who you are. no one is shocked to look up in the third quarter at the scoreboard to realize they’re down by 20. you just know you are.

its tough to be so critical of others i must admit. its a weird thing to be writing about a lack of feeling equal in friendships when personally, my explanation to myself when i let myself down is to look myself in the mirror and remind myself “you are doing life for the first time ever. you will mess up. learn from this and get back out there.” so i suppose maybe i should give them the same grace. maybe i should call them. maybe i should send that message but.. so could they? right? i know i shouldn’t keep score but damnit, i know they know it. i just know they do. i’m not gonna call them. maybe i will. idk. whatever. ok, bye. *sobs*

*tracing by john mayer*

me in new york city on october 20th, 2022 the night i put out “i love you, prove me wrong” with ryan and tamon right by side on the most important night of life. and the best night of my life.

notes on the piece: the above writing was not edited by anyone, please don’t judge my mistakes. as always, this page will be a diary of streams of thought. i’m not worried about word count or phrasing. i’m worried about staying honest.

thanks for reading.

carl. x.