I decided to no longer talk to my childhood friend of twenty years a few months ago. After a long internal - and, at times, external - battle, I decided to call it quits. Things had been on a downward spiral for awhile and after attempting, pretty desperately, to save our friendship, things ended.
I'll be honest with you: I don't think she even noticed.
Unfortunately, this friend of mine had a tendency to forget I existed. I'm not sure why I stuck around as long as I did. When we were in high school, she suddenly started ignoring me in lieu of boyfriends. In college, we lost almost all contact and at one point, I immaturely cut her off and all she replied was, "I expected this to eventually happen," hinting at how horrible of a friend she was.
I never received any kind of present. I'm sure - I know - that sounds petty and selfish, but it was the thought behind it that I was craving, not the actual gift. She would buy her boyfriends these amazing and handcrafted gifts. She'd pour her soul into these gifts. They were beautiful. As we grew older and she finally became confident enough to make more girlfriends, she'd buy them amazing and thoughtful gifts, too.
But not me.
I know that I also made mistakes in that twenty year friendship. I was selfish at times, too, and passive aggressive. I have a problem with letting people overrun me, which is something I've worked on for a long time. I was too passive sometimes, too aggressive others. I was needy, I was distant. There were many, many things I did wrong, too. But I always cared about her and I always tried to be there when she needed me.
I can't say she did the same in return.
The last time we hung out was in April. She invited me to a play. I was impressed, but cautious, because we hadn't hung out in awhile, despite that Christmas me being more vulnerable than I'd ever been and essentially begging her to help me fix our friendship. I'd felt really positive after that conversation, but I think a part of me knew that it would never work and we were doomed to end, even then. Perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy in many ways.
I went and we kept conversation relatively casual. She asked about my life, which was pretty impressive. (I'm not exaggerating this. During our Christmas-convo, she admitted that she'd never taken a real interest in my life.) I thought she was trying to improve and I felt weird, but open - until she dropped the bomb on me.
About how she's depressed.
And feeling hopeless.
And in a bad place.
I should have known. She has always done this in the past. She never wanted to hang out unless it benefited her, especially later on in our friendship. It was always me driving to her place those last years, me making the effort to see her, me making plans, etc. She'd disappear and never reply to messages and blame it on her depression and then I'd go over and try to make her feel better and she'd wax poetic about how I was the only person in her life and how she had not other friends and she valued me oh-so-much.
As soon as she began to make other friends, though, I disappeared. I did some kind of vanishing act that I wasn't aware I could even do. Now that she didn't need me, she didn't want me. Twenty years down the drain. I should have let go then, but I didn't.
Anyway, while we were out, for the first time I didn't indulge her revelation. I simply said, "I'm sorry to hear that," and changed the topic. I could tell she was deflated and I'm sure she was surprised - and maybe hurt, which makes me sad as I never wanted to hurt her - but I felt proud of myself; and I also knew in that moment that I would not be contacting her again.
However, at that time, I didn't take any other measures. It wasn't until my birthday that I deleted her number.
She called me and she just sounded like she didn't want to leave that message, like she didn't want to talk to me in the first place. She sounded out-of-whack and depressed and like someone was holding a gun to her head. Even my roommate scoffed at the message. It sounded like she just wanted to hang out with me to dump her troubles on me without giving anything in return, as usual.
So, I deleted her number. But not without calling her one last time. I made this bet with myself, as I often do, and told myself if she picked up, I'd try to talk things out, but if she didn't, then things were over. And she didn't pick up. After a time, I noticed that she also never even tried to call me back - and she never texted me a reply to my call, either. (I didn't leave a message, but this was a little unusual.) In hindsight, maybe she let go before I did.
Or she just didn't care. Which she didn't. She never had. You can tell someone how much you love them all you want. You can talk until you’re red in the face, but if your actions don't match up then it's fake. You. Are. A. Liar.
To be honest, I don't even think she's noticed I'm not longer in her life now that she has new friends to replace me. I didn't realize I was so replaceable. Even to this day, I'll still check her blog or see if there's any updates in her life. Mostly, I'm just so desperate to see if she's noticed I'm missing.
She hasn't noticed.
I'll be honest with you: I don't think she even noticed.
Unfortunately, this friend of mine had a tendency to forget I existed. I'm not sure why I stuck around as long as I did. When we were in high school, she suddenly started ignoring me in lieu of boyfriends. In college, we lost almost all contact and at one point, I immaturely cut her off and all she replied was, "I expected this to eventually happen," hinting at how horrible of a friend she was.
I never received any kind of present. I'm sure - I know - that sounds petty and selfish, but it was the thought behind it that I was craving, not the actual gift. She would buy her boyfriends these amazing and handcrafted gifts. She'd pour her soul into these gifts. They were beautiful. As we grew older and she finally became confident enough to make more girlfriends, she'd buy them amazing and thoughtful gifts, too.
But not me.
I know that I also made mistakes in that twenty year friendship. I was selfish at times, too, and passive aggressive. I have a problem with letting people overrun me, which is something I've worked on for a long time. I was too passive sometimes, too aggressive others. I was needy, I was distant. There were many, many things I did wrong, too. But I always cared about her and I always tried to be there when she needed me.
I can't say she did the same in return.
The last time we hung out was in April. She invited me to a play. I was impressed, but cautious, because we hadn't hung out in awhile, despite that Christmas me being more vulnerable than I'd ever been and essentially begging her to help me fix our friendship. I'd felt really positive after that conversation, but I think a part of me knew that it would never work and we were doomed to end, even then. Perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy in many ways.
I went and we kept conversation relatively casual. She asked about my life, which was pretty impressive. (I'm not exaggerating this. During our Christmas-convo, she admitted that she'd never taken a real interest in my life.) I thought she was trying to improve and I felt weird, but open - until she dropped the bomb on me.
About how she's depressed.
And feeling hopeless.
And in a bad place.
I should have known. She has always done this in the past. She never wanted to hang out unless it benefited her, especially later on in our friendship. It was always me driving to her place those last years, me making the effort to see her, me making plans, etc. She'd disappear and never reply to messages and blame it on her depression and then I'd go over and try to make her feel better and she'd wax poetic about how I was the only person in her life and how she had not other friends and she valued me oh-so-much.
As soon as she began to make other friends, though, I disappeared. I did some kind of vanishing act that I wasn't aware I could even do. Now that she didn't need me, she didn't want me. Twenty years down the drain. I should have let go then, but I didn't.
Anyway, while we were out, for the first time I didn't indulge her revelation. I simply said, "I'm sorry to hear that," and changed the topic. I could tell she was deflated and I'm sure she was surprised - and maybe hurt, which makes me sad as I never wanted to hurt her - but I felt proud of myself; and I also knew in that moment that I would not be contacting her again.
However, at that time, I didn't take any other measures. It wasn't until my birthday that I deleted her number.
She called me and she just sounded like she didn't want to leave that message, like she didn't want to talk to me in the first place. She sounded out-of-whack and depressed and like someone was holding a gun to her head. Even my roommate scoffed at the message. It sounded like she just wanted to hang out with me to dump her troubles on me without giving anything in return, as usual.
So, I deleted her number. But not without calling her one last time. I made this bet with myself, as I often do, and told myself if she picked up, I'd try to talk things out, but if she didn't, then things were over. And she didn't pick up. After a time, I noticed that she also never even tried to call me back - and she never texted me a reply to my call, either. (I didn't leave a message, but this was a little unusual.) In hindsight, maybe she let go before I did.
Or she just didn't care. Which she didn't. She never had. You can tell someone how much you love them all you want. You can talk until you’re red in the face, but if your actions don't match up then it's fake. You. Are. A. Liar.
To be honest, I don't even think she's noticed I'm not longer in her life now that she has new friends to replace me. I didn't realize I was so replaceable. Even to this day, I'll still check her blog or see if there's any updates in her life. Mostly, I'm just so desperate to see if she's noticed I'm missing.
She hasn't noticed.
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