So It Is

Recently, the subject of blogging and how personal one should be when writing came up. The agreed upon fear of someone reading it and knowing you were talking about them. Have you revealed too much, too little? Is it boring? Is there a line that should never be crossed? Should your blog be like your diary?

Dear Blog,
Today I made pancakes and stared at the pile of dishes in the sink until, finally, deciding to walk away and leave them for another day.

Dear Blog,
Does he like me? Circle yes or no.

I can certainly understand these fears. You’re writing is sent out into the world to be read by friend and foe alike, by those in your intimate circle and by perfect strangers. Today, I decided: Fuck it! What’s the point if I’m not also getting some kind of cathartic release from writing? Isn’t that sometimes the point? I’ve played it too close to the vest so far. Which leads to today’s topic: Friendship.

Friendship is supposed to be easy. Next to familial relationships, they require the least amount of work to be successful. The rules of friendship are simple and finite:

1. Be respectful
2. Have fun, even when you’re not having fun
3. If you have a problem, talk it out
4. Be there for each other if and when they need it

I may not be the best friend at all times, but I am loyal to a fault and can forgive minor infractions better than I ever imagined I could. I really want to believe that my friends are there for me as I have been for them. I want to believe that they don’t have ulterior motives, that they are not vindictive or cruel.

Friendship is a little hard for me. I went through a revolving door of friendships, a new one each year, until high school. Of those friends, I am now only in passing acquaintance with two. It’s hard for me to trust people. I don’t let anyone get too close. I try never to show weakness. I want to be in control. I want to be the rock for which they come to lean.

Today, I finalized the end of a 7 year friendship. I never saw it coming. We had been through so much together: multiple jobs, a divorce, the beginning and end of relationships, the 4 AM phone calls when she’d had a fight with her boyfriend and was sitting in a 7-11 parking lot crying. We vacationed together. All of this came to a standstill Saturday.

The reason she has no interest in apologizing for her behavior or mending this friendship is because I’m mean. I post unflattering pics of her online (which I removed when she asked me too, and besides; it’s not my fault you are unable to smile in a photo and are unhappy with your body. This is how you look). I don’t drop everything when she mentions in passing an activity she wants to do within the next three days. My memory is not perfect. If there’s something you want to do, but not today, you should remind me. Apparently, telling someone you would be bummed if they didn’t hang out with you on your last day in town is grounds for turning off your phone and ignoring their calls wondering where you are. You can then let your friends treat them rudely and expect no consequence.

The reality is: I may be a bit harsh at times. I have a problem with keeping my thoughts and opinions too myself, especially with friends whom you are supposed to be able to be honest with. I love taking pictures and would rather put one up of you not smiling, then have no proof of your existence at all.

I try never to let bad feelings build up until there is nothing to be done about them. I am the first to come to you, although it will be hard for me as I don’t like conflict with friends, and say, “Hey, when you do this, it make me feel…”

I’m rambling a bit now, and I apologize. It’s just…

My Dad says I should watch how I open myself to others. Almost, that I should be vigilante in looking for faults and avoiding them. If I did, if I went back to the girl I was in school, I wouldn’t have any friends at all. I’d become a hermit, sitting at home with a bottle of Jack in one hand and a pink lady Bic in the other. I can’t go back there. A friend, who I think I may be able to starting calling my good friend, said recently that she realized what a social creature she was. That she needed to be around people as much as possible or she’d just be depressed. I certainly understand that concept. We are social animals. We need interaction. I love sitting at home, reading a book or watching a movie, maybe drinking a glass or two from my box o’wine; but I have to go out at some point too. I have to let someone in, at least a little, to have a connection with another breathing soul.

I thought this person was a friend I would be happy to call “My Friend” for years to come. I guessed wrong.

No sooner had I read her cold reply to my heartfelt email about the situation that transpired this weekend, then she had already “un-friended” me from Facebook. Ouch. That was supposed to be my big move! Do I erase all pictures of her from my photo albums? Do I photo shop her out of the nice ones of me and of other people? Is it sad that we now think in terms of Facebook when dissolving a relationship? Used to be, you just erased their number from your phonebook. Now, I have to think about all this.

I’m surprised by how un-upset I am. Perhaps, it’s because I knew this was coming since Sunday. Perhaps, because I already got my good cry out of the way. Either way, it’s done. The end of an era (if we’re speaking in the “Friends” definition of an era. How eerie that that episode was on last night?).