I don’t know if it is a side effect of global warming, the moon phases or just the fact that I am getting older. But maintaining friendships seems to be becoming exceedingly difficult. Or maybe they’ve always been this way and I am just now deciding that life is too short to settle for anything that doesn’t enhance my life. Either way, it sucks.
A few months ago my relationship with my best friend of 15 years ended. If I am being honest I'd say it was probably a long time coming but unfortunately it was also during a time where I was already feeling pressure and anxiety in other aspects of my life. You know that old chestnut, “when it rains it pours”? As someone who typically prides themselves on being strong and able to handle life and its accompanying emotions, I have to admit…it was a bad week.
In general, I have always been an independent person. While friends are nice for the obvious reasons, I am also perfectly content to be on my own. That being said, I tend to attract all walks of life. My parents always instilled in us that we should be nice to everyone and bullying was unforgivable. This upbringing has always lent itself to making friends and acquaintances from every social group; popular, nerdy or awkward, band geek, you name it. It keeps life colorful and interesting!
But even though socializing seems to come naturally, I have always surrounded myself with a few, carefully chosen people for the “real” stuff. Yes I have a large personality but I can also be private and guarded. So if you past the imaginary test and make it into the inner circle, congratulations, your reward is me! I may not be a million dollars or a fancy car. I may lack patience and grace. I may seem bossy or theatrical. I may sometimes cross the line. I am by no means perfect. But I’m also fun-loving, adventurous, empathetic and loyal to a fault. I will always ask you how you’re doing and genuinely care when you respond. I will make you laugh or let you cry and snacks will always be enjoyed guilt free. I will be honest but kind. Together we could travel the world or do nothing at all. All I ask is that if I let you in, you don’t let me down. Because as much as the idea of confrontation immediately triggers anxiety and blotches on my chest (a reaction that betrays the hardcore exterior I pretend to have), I will stand up for myself. I just never thought I’d have to do it to this extent with this person. And though it was my decision to say goodbye, it was not one I came to lightly or quickly, despite what she may think. And it was no less hurtful to be the person to walk away.
We met our freshman year of college, our rooms being a few doors down from each other. At first, I am embarrassed to admit, I was intimidated by her. I had always been the loud and crazy funny one and here she was, loud and crazy and worst of all, funny. And so I was scared. If she was that girl, who was I supposed to be?! Luckily, I was able to get over my insecurities and in a short time I realized that instead of a rival, I had met my match.
She made me feel immediately comfortable. She was unapologetically herself and so there was no reason to be anything but genuine back. No topic was off limits and she talked just as much about vaginas as she did about wanting to help someone who was down. She’d give you the shirt off her back...but also maybe tell you how you looked like a goof in it. I pulled muscles laughing too hard and once wrote her a letter that I slipped under her door about how it was so nice to have a friend like her in my life. By sophomore year we were roommates and inseparable.
She also became super close to my family, often being referred to as my third sister. Her relationship with her own family was complicated so she spent numerous weekends and holidays with us at our home. After graduation, it was hard not seeing her everyday. We always lived about 2 hours apart and so getting together took planning but we did what we could.
When I was 23 I suddenly lost my Dad. That same week she lost her Grandmother. Despite that fact, she dropped everything including her own family obligations to be with me. She arrived only hours after I called her and even made the trip multiple times in the next few days, going home for her Grandmother’s funeral and back for my Dad’s. She cried with me and helped get me through the darkest moment of my life. I could never repay her for that support and kindness.
Our relationship wasn’t always smooth sailing however. We could both be stubborn and strong-willed and on the rare occasions where we had a spat, it was not pretty. She would always tell you her opinion whether you asked for it or not, but did not receive similar feedback well. In fact, I consciously avoided topics and confrontations in hopes of not setting her off. She could be possessive and jealous and I gave up on trying to incorporate her into my other group of friends. She could be rude and territorial, trying to prove how much closer the two of us were than anyone else in my circle. An attribute I made excuses for. Telling myself it was a true testament to the strength and importance of our friendship. Not realizing at the time that it was completely abnormal and unacceptable.
She struggled with depression and could never seem to find a healthy emotional balance regardless of therapy and medication. I know depression is a disease and out of her control but I feel like she also never had a chance to experience a healthy relationship. The dysfunctional environment in which she grew up in ultimately stifled her ability to see her own worth, driving her into multiple toxic, emotionally abusive situations. This would become the basis of almost every phone call and visit over the duration of our friendship despite the constant positive reinforcement and pleading with her to make different choices. It was obvious she was in pain and needed help but she was stubborn and I was powerless. I am not saying that I am always peachy but the constant negativity however justified, was draining.
As time went on, we slowly started to drift apart. Our interests changed, we had less in common. I still loved spending time with her but it didn’t come as easy as it once did. We had a few close calls over the years, disagreements and words said in frustration. Resentment and blame were passed back and forth. One of these episodes resulted in months of silence that in hindsight, was probably the beginning of the end. There were times when I knew we no longer made sense but I just could not bring myself to abandon her.
Last Spring she told me she was getting a divorce. This was actually the best news. After years of screaming matches, insults and general misery she had finally mustered the strength to set herself free. I was incredibly proud of her and grateful that she was giving her and her daughter a chance to be healthy and happy. The next time I saw her was emotional. She was the friend I had met 15 years ago. Vivacious, glowing and most importantly, happy. The shadow and weight had so visibly lifted from her face and shoulders. She had chopped off her hair, something she’d always wanted to do but her ex had liked her hair long, and had never looked more beautiful. I didn’t know it then, but this would be the last time I would see her.
After a brief period of confidence and joy, she seemed to backslide into that dark place. I know the divorce process must have been difficult regardless of the obvious positives of getting out and I fully admit I could have been more supportive. But I was also frustrated that she could never seem to be anything but negative and because of this, my empathy for her situation started to wane and so I stopped trying as hard. Something that I am not proud of but I felt myself getting sucked down into a place we had been a million times before. It became obvious that this was just who she was and there was nothing I could do to change that.
We were going through the motions. The conversations became stagnant. I felt I was growing and changing as a person while she remained stuck struggling with her personal demons. We talked less frequently. She began cancelling days before we were supposed to get together, despite planning it months prior. When I did reach out her responses were half-hearted, sometimes non existent and almost always one-sided. I may not be going through a divorce but my life isn’t perfect either. I have had struggles and health scares, frustrations and triumphs. But those things always seemed to be eclipsed by whatever was going on in her life. Putting it simply, I was tired. The obvious mutual resentment was getting old and I got to a point where I just didn’t know how to be friends anymore.
When you are close to someone for almost half your life, you learn a lot about them. Their fears, their favorite food, how they think and react. So when she cancelled the last time with an attitude, I knew I was about to get an earful, through text no less. It had been brewing just beneath the surface for months and we had reached critical mass. In short she felt I was selfish and unsupportive, unwilling to be the friend she deserved after everything she had ever done for me. And yes, she had been there for me. But I was not this monster she had in her head and she was not some martyr. How easily she had forgotten about the times I went to look for her after she ran out of our college house an emotional wreck or how I had stroked her hair while she cried. How my home had been an asylum for her on many occasions and how I listened to endless hours of the same complaints and excuses.
But this was all my fault. Absolutely no responsibility taken by her. And so I reached my breaking point. It didn’t come in a wave of rage or take me days to analyze, like most things do. In fact, I had little emotion. I was numb…and I knew it was time. I immediately but calmly typed my response, the words flowing as if I had known and prepared. I said my peace but kept it mature. Though I was ending our relationship, I did not want to be mean or spiteful. My last sentence was a genuine hope that she finds some way to be happy. The only thing I have ever wanted for her. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t help her find that. But it wasn’t for lack of trying and I just don’t have any more left to give.
Maybe friendships are supposed to be cyclical. People may enter your life when you need them to and exit when it’s time. Maybe you grow together, maybe you grow apart. I do not regret any friendship I have ever had, regardless of the events during its life cycle. I have learned more about myself and about how I handle life in general. I think certain experiences such as losing a loved one, have the ability to help put things in perspective. You realize how fragile life can be, how quickly it can change. This has made me much more selective about what I choose to put my energy into.
And so here I am, 34 and best friendless ( I don't even have a dog). The feeling not unlike sitting alone at a lunch table. I am disappointed and I am sad. But also proud. Proud that I refused to accept and participate in a relationship that was no longer healthy or productive. But that also doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I struggled with how to relay this experience. I do not want to come off as self-righteous or a victim as I know I am flawed and human just like everyone else. I know there are two sides to every story and this is just my point of view. While I like people in my life, I do not require them. But I still want to believe that there is a person out there, with a heart of gold and a killer sense of humor that will fit the friend size hole I can’t ever seem to keep filled. Applications currently being accepted.
