My
mom always said I constantly had to have someone to play with. Of course, I
don’t remember this, but I believe her. She said I always had lots of friends
around and never wanted to leave anyone off of a party guest list. As I’ve
gotten older, I’ve noticed that I’m more willing to leave people off of a party
guest list. I have friends. I also have a tight inner circle. Within that inner
circle, I have an even tighter family circle. As with most people, my family
circle doesn’t jut consist of blood relatives. I do consider myself very
fortunate that my sister, who is eight years older than me, fits snug in the
family circle. I don’t know that everyone with a sibling gets to have that kind
of relationship. Well, I do know, and they don’t. I was also fortunate to find
my husband, who is not the least bit threatened of my relationship with my
sister. In fact, he is always sure to be careful and not stomp all over it—or
in it.
I
had always prided myself on the fact that I had kept most of my childhood
friends close to me. We might not have seen each other all the time, but we
still had constant contact through phone calls, emails, texts, etc. This was
important to me. It was so important to me that I may have paid more attention
to how long we had known each other rather than to how the relationship
benefited either one of us. There was one friend in particular whom I had known
since the 3rd grade. Let’s call her J. I remember the first time I
met J. Her family had just moved to the area, so she didn’t know anyone. I
liked her immediately because she had freckles and red hair. I know that’s an
odd reason, but it was mine. Once I started to get to know her, I really loved
how loud she was. She always seemed happy and was always laughing. I got the
chance to spend the night with her, and I just knew we were meant to be
friends. She had sisters, and pets, and a mom who loved to hug on me, and a dad
who loved to make me laugh. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great home, but it
wasn’t a loud home. I loved her fun, loud home. I loved her.
Of
course, like most friends, we had ups and downs. Even through middle school
“fights” and college/life distance, we still remained in touch. Fortunately,
she decided to come back home to start her married life. I was her maid of
honor. Just like J, her wedding was fun and loud. It still goes down in the
books as one of the best times I’ve had at a wedding. I honestly don’t know if
she even knows how happy I was for her. I’m not very good at telling people how
I feel, so I had just hoped that she knew.
My
life took some turns I didn’t expect—divorce. Ugh. It was for the best. J was
there for me. She wasn’t living close to me at the time, but I could still
visit her for a weekend. And that’s just what I did. Her husband decided to
invite his childhood friend that same weekend. Well, well, well, can you
believe that when I laid eyes on the childhood friend that there was a lightning
bolt between us? I couldn’t believe it either. In fact, I tried to stomp it out
and ignore it. No luck. Thank goodness! The childhood friend and I have been
together for 10 years, and he is my husband. J introduced me to my husband—a
man that I love so much it scares the hell out of me, even to this day.
J
and her husband moved back closer to us and started an adorable family. I
noticed that we had drifted apart, but I chalked it up to me being busy with my
career and her being a new mom and starting her own business. There were lots
of changes happening, but that was ok. That’s life. Then I found out I had cancer.
J and her mother were there for me. I had phone calls, flowers, and hugs. She
would even haul babies over to my house to spend time with me. I got better.
Then I was diagnosed again. This time there were fewer phone calls, no flowers,
and distant hugs. This time I chalked it up to her being busy. It hurt, though.
It’s
important for me to mention that when I feel hurt, I retreat like a hermit
crab. I fold up tight inside my shell. You can pry at my claw, but I will not
open it, even if it was just to pinch you really hard. I’m locked down. I can’t
put my finger on just one incident or thing that J did during this time. I
think it just kept building, and I kept retreating until there really was
nothing left on my end. I know she had to feel it. She did mention it once. The
conversation didn’t go well. She was upset that I wouldn’t “let her in.” I was
upset that all of a sudden she wanted “in.” Why now? We were just at two
different ends of this mess and neither one of us was going to relent.
Do
you believe we functioned like this for about two more years of friendship? We
did. I know neither one of us was very happy in the friendship. In some ways,
it was like when my first marriage went bad. It felt similar. When I start to
feel like this, there are two people I cling to—my husband and my sister. I
told them how I felt. They both understood. They also both understood that I
had known her for almost 30 years and didn’t want to just let things run their
course. I think there were times J and I both rallied. I know there were times
where we both complained and vented to our husbands (who keep in mind were also
childhood friends). That had to be hard on both of them.
Ultimately,
the dam on all of those hurt feelings on both sides busted in March. I was so
hurt and angry. I can only assume J felt the same. I’m just sad now. I don’t think we were that
close anymore, and I don’t think that either one of us really wanted to stay in
the friendship. There was little left on either side. I just wish it hadn’t had
to end the way it did. Usually I’m the more reactive of the two of us, but not
in this case. J was reactive. I wonder if she regrets that? I’ve known her a
long time, and if she does regret it, she would never admit it. My gut says she
gets past the sad parts because she simply blames me. I guess to each her own.
Is
there a good way to break up with your friend of 30 years? Probably not. For
now, I remember her loud and fun home. I look at my husband and smile. Without
J’s friendship, I would have never found him. I’m grateful for those 30 years
of friendship. I’m Marching Fourth.
