It saddens me to know that somebody I have been friends with for years is no longer a part of my life, and probably won't be ever again. (Read No. 3 in the series if that makes no sense.) It saddens me more than I would have expected.
Not every friend you make is a friend for life. People move on, people change.
My rational side only needs to remember the insensitive things she has said to me, the stupidity I have had to look past and the superficiality I have had to tolerate to be her friend. Was I the best friend I could have been? Probably not. But there are things about her that practically left me embarrassed to willingly associate with her.
Unfortunately there were times when she was a thoughtful, intelligent person whose heart was in the right place. That endeared me.
So even when I'm treated poorly by somebody repeatedly, my instinct is to forgive and forget, at least to the best of my ability. That's what's wrong with me.
I try too hard to maintain friendships. Even when people don't deserve my time, if there's something I like about them, I don't want to let go.
The sad part is that there are plenty of people in my life that I wish I spent more time with, but don't make the effort. Yet when I lose somebody who doesn't deserve my friendship, that leaves me disappointed. I should be rejoicing to have one less person to care about, one less person to make time for, because the loss of that person gives me more time to focus on the people who deserve my time. But I'm not very good at that, especially when there's some sort of emotional attachment to the person.
I have a disease. Instead of saying "fuck you" to somebody who treats me poorly and riding off on my high horse, I open myself up to more of the same.
I have cut the cord several times. I bent over backwards to stay in touch with my college buddy Dan for several years. But it was me initiating the effort 99 percent of the time. He didn't treat me poorly over the years, he just didn't reciprocate very well. Then he got married. And had a child. And even though there wasn't a big formal wedding, there was never an invitation of any kind, or a voluntary update on how things were going with his newborn child. Then he mocked an e-mail I sent three years ago, asking my friends and family for assistance in fundraising for my annual bike ride to benefit the MS Society of Minnesota. I decided at that point he didn't appreciate my friendship. And if he did, he could contact me. I haven't heard from him since, and I don't care.
My head says I'm better off for walking away from Shitcan. But for some reason, my heart hurts a little bit, even though it's completely irrational.
I wish I could treat people as disposable. I really do. Life would be so much easier.