hot coffee girl

I started “dating” boys when I was a freshman in high school…my first “real” date was the Homecoming Dance at Wadsworth High School. I still remember my dress…the night…the boy. He was the literal boy next door…his backyard and mine was steps away…and we were “GOING TOGTHER”. Very serious business, I must say, for a 14 year old girl. We were in so much teenage love that it tore at my heart when we broke up, even though I was the one doing the breaking. I cried and missed him and wondered if he missed me.

I have had countless relationships end since that time…some were people I was only casually seeing, and the pairing just fizzled, some were more complex relationships that involved a lot more emotion and change and healing at the conclusion. But the common denominator in all of the endings is that it hurts. It hurts to have to end something, even if that end is ultimately for the better…which it usually is, or it wouldn’t be ending. There are countless articles on the web and in women’s magazines (and even some men’s now that we are a much more meterosexual society) on how to deal with a breakup. Advice abounds with such titles as “How to Get Over a Bad Relationship”, “How to Heal a Broken Heart”, or my favorite,

“How to Go On When You Just Want to Throw Yourself Out a Window Because That Lying, Sneaking Bastard Fucked Your Sister and Your Dog and Ruined Your Credit Before He Crashed Your Car and Didn’t Ever Put Down the Toilet Seat”
(Okay, that is probably not a real article…yet. But say tuned.)

And then there is the classic,

“How to Help Your Best Friend Through a Break Up.”

But where do you go when your best friend is the one you are breaking up with?

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have that many close friends to begin with, and female friends are in the minority. I have never been good at sorting through the game-playing, back-biting and jealousy that seem to accompany the companionship and camaraderie that female friendships provide. I got tossed aside too many times by “friends” when some boy became more important than the friendship. I have thus rarely trusted many women enough to let them get close. (Now, don’t get me wrong…I think women are fantastic, extraordinary creatures that are strong, brave, and loving. I am in awe of some of the capacities that women have to love, nurture, fight, and endure. This is not a bash on women. I am simply clarifying that I don’t (and why I don’t) have many close female friends.)

So, back to the matter at hand.

I did have a really great friend. She is still great, but the latter part is no longer true. She is funny, smart, attractive, and wise beyond her years. We laughed hard, cried sometimes, and shared everything from the mundane to the important. One of the best things that sums up our relationship is this paper she gave me…it has those two cherubic angels on it, and under the picture it reads, “A good friend will bail you out of jail. A best friend will be sitting next to you saying, “Damn-we fucked up.” I hung that on my refrigerator, and looked it all the time, knowing that it was such an apt summary of our relationship. I believed that we’d follow each other into hell, and I felt better for having her as a part of my life.

But lately I have felt this pulling away from her end, and it bothered me. I chalked it up to a bad day, then a bad week, and it slowly occurred to me that this was something more than that. Our relationship was getting increasingly strained. The time we used to carve out for each other, she filled with other things. She called less often, missed important events in my life, and seemed distant and uninterested when we did talk or e-mail.

If this were a romantic relationship, the signs would’ve been easier to spot. Every article written will tell you the warning signs that your boyfriend/husband/significant other is no longer interested in you. He is spending more time with other friends, he doesn’t call as often, he is more emotionally distant…all signs that your romance is dead.

But these signs are harder to recognize and often much more subtle if the relationship is between two friends instead of two lovers. And potentially more painful. Because I like to think of myself as a pretty loving and giving person (no, really), I do not take my friendships lightly. So the idea that she was no longer going to be a part of my life was distressing. I thought about waiting on the sidelines, stepping back and letting her slowly drift away, but that solution is even more agonizing. We’ve all been there…stayed in a relationship far beyond its expiration date, and endured the loneliness that is unique to not technically being alone. That’s what it would’ve been for me to say that we were still friends and still have the essential friendship be obviously absent.

So, we broke up.

And not in that obvious, guy-girl way. I told her what was bothering me, she said she has other stuff going on. We went back and forth for a while. Blah, blah blah. And then it was over. We didn’t call each other, didn’t talk anymore, and haven’t talked since. I am angry and disappointed and pissed and hurt. Add confused to that...confused as to how I am supposed to feel or act about the situation. Because while there are all kinds of rules for other endings, there’s few for this one. But what I am most of all is sad. Sad that a good friendship is no more, and said that I don’t have that person to turn to when I need her, or have her turning to me to sort something out. I see something funny and pick up the phone to call her, I am frustrated by work and I open an e-mail to her.

And then I don’t.

I will grieve for the loss in the way that I have cried for others. I will think about that time she made me laugh so hard about spitting on a tech that I actually peed my pants. And I will know that she made me a better person with her friendship. I will be sad and angry and have all kinds of other bad thoughts and feelings.

And then I will stop.

Because trying so hard to chase after her will take away time and energy from those who deserve it most…the ones who would value it.

And if she ever does knock on my door again, I might answer it.

Whether I invite her in may be another story.