On Friendship

It is sad, the growing apart of friends. Whether due to the busy-ness of everyday life, circumstances beyond our control, the loss of commonalities or simply the passage of time, it hurts to lose a friend, literally or metaphorically speaking. When it comes to friendship, how do you know where you stand?

This has been on my mind a lot recently, because I've "lost" several friends. One person was toxic, so I cut him out of my life. One person entered rehab, a move that probably saved his life, for which I am incredibly grateful. And one I've simply grown apart from: J.

Since moving back to Dayton after graduation a few years ago, the one friend that I've felt I could always count on has been J. Sure, I get on her nerves and she gets on mine, but eventually everything worked itself out. We'd have a silly girls night out (or in) and all would be forgotten. I most definitely considered her my best friend in Dayton.

But lately it hasn't been the same. She has just recently completed her first semester of law school, the hardest semester of her life, to be sure. I know that it was challenging for her...especially considering that she is also raising an amazing and rambunctious 4-year-old. It's become pretty hard to get ahold of her. When she's not in class, she's studying. When she's not studying, she's raising her daughter. When she's not raising her daughter, she's with her boyfriend. When she's not with her boyfriend...well, I have no idea where she is.

I have a vague idea about how she spends her time, because I see her away messages when we're both online. But I can't actually remember the last time we spoke on the phone. We used to talk every day, sometimes twice a day...and now I can't remember the last conversation we had.

I saw her at BW3 the night before Thanksgiving. It was the first time I'd seen her in a while...I was hanging out with her boyfriend and some other mutual friends. She spotted me and seemed surprised to see me:

"I didn't know you were going to be out tonight," she said.

"Yup!" I replied brightly. But I couldn't help that niggling little thought in the back of my head: You would have known if you ever thought to call me.

I know that the street runs both ways. And maybe I'm being overly sensitive; after all, she is in one of the busiest times of her life. But I feel like I've made the effort, plenty of times. It just seems that, on her days off, she's always had something better to do, something more important, someone else to hang out with (like her boyfriend).

Let me make one thing very clear: I do not begrudge the fact that J. has a boyfriend and I don't. She has had to deal with a lot of shit in her life. It is hard to be a single mom - but she has handled the situation with a grace and resilience that humbles me, and that I deeply admire. Her boyfriend treats her well and is good to her and accepting of her child. She deserves that happiness; but at the expense of a friendship? Of course there is a certain amount of envy: She has a good relationship, and I want that for myself. But it certainly isn't to the extent that her relationship with her boyfriend is a point of contention for me.

The real boy who is a point of contention between J. and myself is my "relationship" with my ex-boyfriend. I think that to a certain extent, she doesn't approve of my newly formed pseudo-frienship with him - and with good reason, for if the situation were reversed, I wouldn't approve either. How many times did I call her when he and I were together to vent my frustration about the situation? How many times did I lean on her and cry about the way that he treated me and the way he made me feel.

I suffered through a bit of an identity crisis when I was with him - I wasn't the opinionated woman who wouldn't take shit from a guy. I let slide some of the things that I had previously said were important to me in a relationship. She saw her friend hurting and changing for a guy who wasn't worth her time, and that bothered her. She doesn't want me to be in a situation where I might do that to myself again. I get that.

And when she finally yelled at me and let her frustration show in an attempt to snap me back to reality (which, frankly, is exactly what I would have done in a reversed situation) I got my feathers all ruffled because despite the fact that she was right, it wasn't what I wanted to hear. She spoke her mind, but I didn't want to hear it...I just felt like she was judging me. In reality, she just doesn't want to see me get hurt.

But its more than just the fact that she doesn't like who I let myself become when I was dating my ex-boyfriend. It is also the fact that we just never talk anymore. She's got this law school thing, and all of these new law school friends that she hang out with, and I don't. There is no attempt on her part to integrate the new friends with the old friends. I guess I feel a little left out, a little left behind.

So I sit here, feeling rather sorry for myself, missing my best friend and wondering if she even notices. I actually had to check my caller ID to find out the last time I've had a missed or incoming call from her...her number didn't even show up on the call list (which dates back to November.) And as I sit here, I'm half hoping that things will go back to "normal"...and I'm half thinking that they won't, and my concept of "normal" will become the past.

How do you make time for the new endeavors that you undertake without losing touch with the old friends, and with your old self? You don't. You pick and choose priorities, and sometimes people fall through the cracks. "I'll call her tomorrow" turns into next week, next month. The longer you go without talking, the harder it becomes to actually pick up the phone and call.

And so rather than actually picking up the phone I write it all down. It is easier for me to vent through the anonymity of the Internet than to do so in person or on the phone. It is easier to avoid direct conflict that way. And a little cowardly, even, but pride goeth before the fall and all that.

I guess the lesson learned through this carthatic expulsion of emotion is that sometimes you just have to swallow your pride and keep making the effort, and hope that in doing so, the effort pays off. Or at least brings some resolution to the contrary. After all, it is easier to accept the growing apart of friends when there is someone else to blame than yourself.