A silent scream (or maybe a bit of hair pulling)

Dear Readers, please feel free to ignore this.  I just needed to scream and pull my hair in frustration.  If, however, you do decide to read this and you have advice, I'm all ears...
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WTF is wrong with people?  Seriously!  Having heard from The Cougar (formerly known as Bestie #2) a total of three times in the month of November -- once at First Friday Family Dinner, once the weekend before Thanksgiving wondering what "we" were doing for the holiday (in the past this has meant "Why don't you plan everything and make most of the food and host it at your house and just tell me what dish or two to bring"), and once (in a message) a few days before the holiday expressing dismay over my communicated decision to celebrate the holiday alone -- I now get a lengthy e-mail as if no time has gone by and there are no issues.  Amazing.  The email was newsy -- what the parents and grandparents are up to, how she spent the Thanksgiving holiday, how she has to reapply to the graduate program because it's been a year and a half since she took a class -- and included a question: "By the way, are you still holding first Friday dinners? I wasn't sure since you haven't sent out any reminders (not that I have a Facebook page in order to respond) for a couple months."  Really??  The dinners you've attended without fail for nearly a year and a half (since they started), the last of which was on the last first Friday of the month, those dinners?  Am I still...?!?!?


Perhaps this is a legitimate question.  I was, after all, considering calling off family dinners for the foreseeable future.  After some discussion with Honey I decided not to do that but, instead, just not have much contact with family the rest of each month.  I think it's a fair compromise and good for my mental health.  And so perhaps this was just a legitimate effort to see if dinner was still on.


But I am very frustrated.  I do not consider us friends any more, although I am always friendly and polite.  Yet she's always had everything handed to her, everything smoothed over, life made easy.  She chooses friends and when to keep the and for how long and never puts forth effort into a friendship, knowing that the others in the relationship will take care of it for her.  So I stop...and she doesn't make an effort to reach out because she's never had to do that.  Does she still think we're best friends?


On the one hand I want to just confront the issue and be done.  Yet I hesitate because she is currently exhibiting the behaviors and maturity of a 15 year old -- and as we all know, age 15 is the worst age: they think they know everything and absolutely refuse to listen to anyone.  I don't want to initiate a conversation because I believe she would be more receptive to listening if she initiates -- the same as teenagers are more willing to take the advice of a teacher or mentor if they ask for that opinion or advice.


This whole situation is frustrating.  Just when I think "Well, at least I don't have to deal with it anymore" something pops up -- like an e-mail that says nothing and yet says everything.

Musings

Yesterday was The Cougar's birthday.  I spent it elsewhere, celebrating my own birthday (albeit a week early).  This is the first time in years that we have not celebrated together.  Not too long ago I decided that instead of doing a clean break and getting rid of the friendship (something that I couldn't figure out how to do because our families have been so intertwined for years that the prospect seemed even messier than a divorce), I would just stop initiating.  Anything.  Full stop.  I stopped hearing from her for two weeks.  And then our birthdays arrived.  I made plans for this Saturday, her birthday, and so that meant that she asked if we could go out to dinner on Sunday.  I will go, but I am not looking forward to it, and sometimes I wonder why I continue in this way.  Honey asked if I should just be direct about things and I explained why I was being kind and friendly but not initiating, waiting to see if she asked or could figure out the problem.  The reason is this: in many ways The Cougar is like a 14 or 15 year old.  Her emotional maturity is severely lacking, and while there were plenty of signs there I refused to see if for a long time.  Now that I see it, I'm trying to figure out how to address things in an age-appropriate way.  Young teenagers do not do well with direct confrontation; things really backfire if that's your game plan!  But if they come to you and ask for help or advice, that's when they're finally ready to listen.  I'm still waiting for that with The Cougar.  We may never get there.  I wonder how long the awkwardness will last.  I'm glad Honey and I did something else yesterday.

It was a beautiful day in our city and Honey and I were in downtown with some friends -- the first time in ages we've been downtown together.  On days like this, it's easy to remember why we live in (or near, as the case may be) this city.  When the rain clears and the sun comes out, few places are prettier.

Honey had to take a picture of the pretty plaza.

Of course I may be a bit biased.

Yesterday was an excellent way to celebrate my birthday.  We went to see the film Anonymous with our friends, a lovely couple whose family is like our extended family, and then we stopped by my favorite bar to have a drink during happy hour.  (Who am I kidding? The last time I went out was years ago and this is the only place I know -- but it's lovely and trendy and nationally known for its unique drinks and best of all it's relatively cheap during happy hour.)  Afterwards, we returned to our friends' house for dinner and wine and had a very enjoyable time visiting.  I received the two things that I wanted most for this birthday -- a treadmill (thanks, Honey! :-)) and a fun afternoon/evening with friends.

This morning, Honey received an e-mail from The Crazymaker, who thought that it would be lovely if we'd all go over to her house for dinner on my birthday.  It is very clear that The Crazymaker has no idea what I would like for my birthday, which is, primarily, to be left alone.  Chances are she'd make (or buy, since she can't cook) pork or beef, neither of which I eat (a fact I've been trying to get her to remember for a decade), and we'd sit awkwardly for an hour or two, all the while I'd be thinking "I could've just had a nap. That would be a lovely birthday gift."  Part of me wants to say "No! I'm doing what I want to do!" but the rational part of me realizes that I should not willfully hurt others.  That is why we'll go to The Crazymaker's (although maybe I can convince her that I'll bring pastries and we can just have coffee in the morning together -- a compromise), we'll go out to eat with Honey's family (an ever-so-painful experience complete with a snobby restaurant with overpriced food, stilted conversations, people who don't know what espresso is even though it's been explained every year for three years, and the knowledge that if I contemplated ordering a glass of wine I would forever be condemned to the pit of hell), and then I'll come home and do what I always do -- make dinner, sit down, and have a couple hours to unwind before the week starts all over again.

I have a difficult time learning what is a good balance between being selfish (but feeling sane) and being self-sacrificing (but feeling like I need to be committed).  This year it has been a slow process for me to find that balance and every time I think "Okay, now I've got this," a new situation arises and tests me.  I don't know how to handle everything perfectly.  For now, some compromise will have to be good enough.

UPDATE: I should clarify that I do love my family and Honey's family. They have good hearts.  I just love them all more at a distance, punctuated with brief interludes that remind me why distance is so beneficial. And there are a few members of either side of the family who I love and wish I could see them more often.  Okay. Hopefully that is a helpful explanation.

Growing up, growing out

What does it mean to have a best friend for life?  That's a question I've pondered a lot recently.  I still don't have an answer, perhaps because the answer is different for each individual.  As an introvert, I've always thought that it meant I may know a lot of people but I am only close with a few and those few I keep forever.

Sometimes a relationship is simpatico and it doesn't matter if you see the person once a month, once a year, once every five years, and it doesn't even seem to matter if you talk in the interim.  You meet together and instantly it's comfortable and like you've never been apart.  Those are my favorite relationships because they are easy -- the bond is so strong that there's no (apparent) work involved.

Sometimes there is a bond that seems simpatico -- and may in fact be that for years -- and then something happens, life happens, and bonds dissolve.

For me, it's easier to let those bonds slip away when I am separated geographically from someone.  Honestly, I'm such a home body and like taking care of what's in front of me that the extra effort to keep in touch with someone hundreds or thousands of miles away is just too draining.  My energy is needed at home.  This does not necessarily mean that I stop thinking about that person, but chances are we'll drift apart and generally speaking that ends up being okay.

(As a side note, social media like Facebook has really changed this, or at least facilitated an easing of the guilt: "Sure, I know what's going on in so-and-so's life -- I 'like' her posts on Facebook all the time!")


I am not sure how to change a relationship when I am not separated geographically from the other person.  What happens if you realize that life was wonderful with a friend but that it's now time to go your separate ways and yet your lives at this point are so intertwined that you can't even imagine how to do that?

Sometimes close friendships are like marriages (or maybe I should say, more often than not).  It takes time and effort on the part of both parties to maintain the friendship, but more than that it takes commonalities -- similar goals, purposes, ways of approaching life.  In a marriage, especially one that starts very young, there is a real possibility that people will grow up differently and no longer be really compatible.  Honey and I agreed, back before we were married, that if that happened we would do our best to split amicably.  Now, ten years into a marriage, we have talked about how lucky we are that even though we have both changed dramatically in the past decade, we happen to change together.  That cannot be said for the close friendships I've had over that same time period.

Yesterday, I went to speak with a woman I really respect, to share with her what was on my mind.  It was so nice to hear her message: It's okay to grieve for a friendship and It's okay to acknowledge you've grown into different paths and let a friendship go.  When I returned home and prepared dinner, this song played in my head:



I am not saying this has to happen all the time.  But there are times when a friend has chosen behavior that is personally destructive and sticking with that person would bring the destruction into your life.  That's when it's okay to say goodbye.

But I still don't know how to do that.  And so I've got to sit and ponder a while longer.