Well, all things must come to an end, and so it is with The Candace Chronicles.

The handwriting was on the wall, as any reader of the previous chronicles probably figured out early on. My relationship with Candace was very much a give-and-take relationship; that is, I gave and she took. I don’t have to recount my adventures on Candace’s behalf because you can just go back and read the previous entries. I can assure you, though, that I did not leave out anything of significance. I really did all of those things for Candace. The trouble was, Candace never did anything for me.

That sounds so selfish when I write it, but let’s face it, in any satisfying relationship, both parties have to get something out of it. That’s human nature. People band together because they can help each other in some fashion. You have friends who give you something: a confidante, a designated driver, a friend-with-privileges, a mechanic, a decorator, a cook. Friends tend to do things for each other. At least, that has always been my experience. If you disagree, and you believe that a true friend never gives anything back and that’s what makes him or her a friend, then convince me. Maybe a true friend should not expect anything in return, but a true friend always gives something in return nonetheless.

So getting back to Candace. Ben and Candace split for good and decided to divorce and there was a three month waiting period before the divorce was final and so I saw Candace well into the three month period. But I was always kind of the friend Candace had when all her other friends abandoned her after her marriage. (I suspect most of them were friends-with-privileges and the privileges were cut off. I know this for a fact in a couple of cases, but only suspect in other cases. It was a topic I did not dwell overlong on because I was not a friend-with-privileges and my intuition told me it would be counterproductive to the health of my friendship to think about that. That proved to be a prophetic intuition.)

So there I was, a friend when she needed one who placed absolutely no demands on Candace. I am such a swell guy, huh? Or I am an idiot, depending on your point of view. I can argue both positions equally well.

Once the divorce was in the works, Candace was “back on the market,” so to speak. She didn’t really need another guy around because, well, she once again had a surfeit of guys, all fighting for the chance to “be her friend.” Or whatever. Consequently, I heard less and less from Candace.

You know what? I need to interject here that there was, in fact, one thing that I wanted from Candace. I am an amateur photographer and Candace was one of my sometimes models. That was actually how we got to know each other. I took pictures of her in 2000 and they turned out well. So Candace posed for me several times after that, generally once or twice a year at the most. Now you can judge for yourself whether my photos were flattering because Candace has a page in my Gallery. Personally, I think I made her look awesome. So she got great pictures out of the deal, and I had a lot of fun trying new things.

But then earlier this year, we had a session that was absolutely no fun. Truthfully, the time before that was also unpleasant, but I attributed it to other random causes. This latest session, though, should have gone perfectly. The weather was great. Candace had been dieting and exercising and tanning and everything that makes her feel good about herself. It had fun written all over it. But it wasn’t.

Candace didn’t want to pose in half the ways and positions I wanted to try. And I’m not talking about “standing on her head” or “topless” or anything radical. It was things like “laying on her back” or “looking back over her shoulder” or seemingly innocuous things. So it was a real struggle. It was no fun. In fact, it wasn’t what I would characterize as an absence of fun, but a presence of unpleasantness. I was bummed.

So I did a slow burn, which is the kind of burn I do. Generally I smolder and then die out. But this ember just didn’t die out. It burned deeper. And finally I got pissed off and wrote Candace a letter. I debated just ignoring her and not returning her calls and not seeing her any more. But you know, it seemed to me unfair that I shouldn’t at least tell her what I felt. For one thing, it would give me closure. And I already knew how she would react, because I know Candace. Her attitude would be “don’t let the door hit your butt on the way out.” There are enough guys clamoring after Candace that she doesn’t need to take any grief from anyone. She can just move on without looking back. And I knew that’s what she would do, so I figured I might as well give myself some closure.

So I wrote her a nice letter explaining that I felt like the only thing I ever got out of our relationship was gone. I took the opportunity to point out that I didn’t ask for a whole lot and I gave quite a bit in return when she really needed it. I didn’t shortchange myself. And I sent the letter along with a few things she had asked me for, because even at the end I found it hard not to give her the things she had asked me for and I had promised. I’m not a mean guy. I just resent being taken for granted.

Sure enough, three weeks went by and I heard nothing. I knew that would happen, so I was not surprised. I had my closure.

Then damned if she didn’t text message me and say that she thought about it and wanted us to be friends and she would change to be a friend for me as much as I was a friend for her. Well, okay. I didn’t get into any details, because truthfully in the back of my mind I was wondering how she was going to be my friend. You know? But I thought okay I’ll go along for awhile and see what comes of it. I like Candace, after all.

It will come as no surprise that nothing changed. She asked me for a few more things. She had a few opportunities to show me that she was my friend. Since she lives 100 miles south of me, I generally drove down to visit her. But her folks live in my town, so occasionally she would visit here and I remarked that it would be nice if she made some time to visit me once in awhile while she was in town instead of me always driving there. She visited her folks but never stopped to see me. Or even call.

Then one night she called me up and I could tell she had been drinking. I am always very careful talking to Candace when she’s drinking because she is very mercurial when she is, umm, under the influence. It’s just not worth arguing and it is easy enough to avoid. I was talking about a friend of hers that we both know who emailed me the week before. Seemed innocuous enough to me. But after 10 or 15 minutes she abruptly hung up. Then she text messaged me that “our friendship was officially over.”

In retrospect, I am wondering, of course, if it wasn’t all a ruse so she could be the one to end it. At the time of her choosing. Maybe she needed that. I know a few people she cared about ended it with her and she had trouble letting go.

Sadly, the mutual friend I mentioned two paragraphs above was a victim of Candace’s mercurial (and mildly inebriated) temper. She had been drinking and got into a fight with him (over what I am not sure) and she told him their friendship was over. He lasted about 6 months, I think, before he called her up and she was so glad to hear from him it was all water under the bridge. She confided to me she was glad he called because she missed him, but she just didn’t call guys up when she had a fight with them. Candace never calls.

Unfortunately, I never call either. And I find it much easier not to call when I’m not giving up anything. If I call and try to patch things up, I am putting myself back in the all-give-and-no-get relationship mode. I have nothing to lose right now. Candace has everything to lose but honestly I’m sure she already has a half dozen guys lined up to do all the things I used to.

So the Candace Chronicles have come to an end. A strange ending, rife with unfulfilled potential and unanswered questions, but that’s the way life goes.