Breakupssuck, especially when you’ve shared so much, so deeply, for so long.
But sometimes you simply have to do it.
Im talking, of course, about breaking up with my friends.
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Seven of us had made the move west at some point and grown closer for it.
Emily, another member of the group, just couldnt get her you-know-what together.
She was our self-appointed court jester and relished her entertaining role.
We had always talked about work, and suddenly that evaporated.
When was the last time she asked about my work?
Why did I bother giving her endless dating advice if she always ignored it?
Or talking her down from every ledge, just to have her climb right back up?
You know, my fiance said after listening, Youre always pissed after youre with her.
I wish I could say I was mature about it, but I wasnt.
Like daters everywhere do each day, I pulled the slow fade.
She chatted, I ignored.
Her texts became passive-aggressive, then her anger grew palpable across the internet superhighway.
It practically made me itch.
Without that, I had time for so much else.
Like panicking about Sam’s opinion.
She must hate me,I thought*.
She thinks Im a bitch.
She thinks Im selfish.
- I was consumed by what our fearless leader must have been saying about me.
Others in our group had stepped out of line' before, and her retaliatory gossip had been vicious.
When Sam and I met up for drinks, she made her stance clear.
Look, she said.
Ems a total mess.
I mean, we all know shes ridiculous.
But your, like, happiness isnt worth ruining the whole group.
Sam ran a tight ship, and by standing up for myself, I was rocking the boat.
Lips closed tight, I nodded, finished my drink, and left.
At first, I didnt tell any of the other women in the group about this exchange.
But my friends outside the group all uniformly balked at the very notion of my staying friends with her.
So, I wrote Sam a Dear John email.
I explained how hard it was to walk on eggshells around her.
I’d cherished the supportive, fun environment we’d all cultivated.
Thus, I was stepping back.
It turns out I hadnt lost my squad, just trimmed it.
Breaking up with one or two didn’t mean I was cutting ties with all of them.
Except of course, for Nora, who happily lived in Sam’s shadow.
Our breakup was collateral damage, which I was fine with.
The crew’s hierarchy had become so rigid that I forgot its supposed to be a circle.
It was lonely sometimes, but also liberating.
Of course I miss nights drinking and gossiping with the New York crew.
Of course I sometimes want to call them and ask for their advice.
But for now, the power of going cold turkey has been intoxicating, because I’m in control.
Maybe I’ll get back together with Sam, Nora, and Emily someday.
Weve survived making small talk at a few big parties, so it’s not a scorched-earth situation.
Maybe ourfriendshipscould finally be balanced.
I’ve been dumped horribly, so I can’t believe I’m saying that.
But it’s true.
Maybe you did, maybe you didnt.
But hopefully your real friends will love you either way.
