Everything Dies

Everything dies, including friendships.  Some friendships waste away, atrophying like a neglected organism.  Some friendships end with a flourish:  an argument, a conflagration, a dramatic moment.  Ours died from a series of misunderstandings, hurt feelings, unfulfilled expectations, and lack of support.

Ours was once an easy friendship; non-competitive, non-judgmental, playful and intellectual.  I felt safe revealing parts of myself to you—letting you in on my thoughts, having you understand the frenzied pace of my life. You provided support and advice.  You listened.  We helped each other look for jobs and laughed our way through the insanity of two more than slightly crazed firms.

I can’t pinpoint an exact event that changed things.  It was more of a series of events—harsh remarks via E-mail, lack of support while going through hard times, pulling-back when I reached out.   Very little putting of yourself out to help and a drawing inward on your part; this behavior always excused with a statement saying, “I wish I could, but…”  I lashed out, too, becoming either silent or petulant because I saw how easy it was for you to find time when you wanted to do something.  I finally retreated and changed the dynamics of the friendship, as I was frankly tired of being ignored.

I don’t know the exact origins of the distrust and sniping.  Little bits of acrimony peppered our more and more infrequent exchanges.  Misunderstandings ran rampant, and apologies became more frequent than hello.  My responses to situations were viewed as over-reactions, and I viewed your responses as callous lip service.  If you really wanted to know how I was, wouldn’t you make the effort?  I felt like an inanimate curiosity you took from the drawer and played with when it was convenient, not a living, feeling creature that needed to be nurtured.  You probably felt tired of hearing my broken record.  All I know is that you made your point known through not saying anything at all.

We once survived a nuclear winter, but our friendship couldn’t sustain the events of this winter.  How’s that for poetic justice?