Some Friend

A monologue

You were a terrible friend.

An apathetic friend. An uncaring friend. A bad friend.

And for the first time, I can finally say that out loud with zero guilt. I never wanted to. No one should want to say that about a friend. But today, I need to. You chose to burn bridges; I can return the favor.

One year ago I was coping with a decision I had come to regret. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life, and in the aftermath, all I wanted was to talk, to hear your voice. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes of your time, to vent. To share my experience. To call you my best friend. Yes, you were my best friend, a brother. I meant that. I wish I still could.

But, you were busy. I didn’t hold that against you, not at first. You can’t expect anyone to drop everything on a whim the exact second you need them. No, you find the time. You recognize a priority, and between the work, the exercise, and the ex-girlfriend, you make it your business to set aside the first bit of spare time available, and you commit. That’s communication. You were never around the corner, so a meeting was always out of the question, but a phone call? You always found time in the past, why would now be any different?

So, you were “busy”. Again…and again…and again. Two days became one week, one week became four weeks, four weeks became five months. You kept a friend in need waiting for five months. I know, I know, you were “busy”. No. No one is that busy for five months. No one is that busy for 24 hours. If you wanted to call, you would have done it already. The car ride home from work, eating dinner, perhaps before bed…there was always time. Don’t tell me there wasn’t. You knew I needed to speak with you. You acknowledged that need. And you couldn’t even take that need seriously. Instead, you got wasted. Cheerfully assured me you’d reach out when you had the time, and then immediately forgot. My personal favorite: gave up after one missed call, without even leaving a single message.

If you can make a friend happy at little to no cost to yourself by doing something as simple as talking to them, then you fucking do it. It’s that simple. Anything else is neglect. And it was neglect. The decision I had made a year ago gave me thoughts. Bad thoughts, thoughts anyone in pain should never, ever have. Those thoughts. You may never know what issues people are going through, unless they actually consider you important enough to confide in, before it’s too late. This was a cry for help, a cry you couldn’t be bothered to answer. Thankfully others did, true friends. It’s a shame you weren’t one of them. There were even times I asked myself, if I stopped existing, would you even notice? I’m so glad you proved me right.

I had said I wasn’t angry at you. I was polite. I gave you opportunity after opportunity, and received nothing in return. No one would blame me for putting my foot down. So, I did. I’ll admit I could have been more coherent in my frustration. Regardless, I told you how I really felt. About the thoughts. About making time. About our friendship. I told you what you already knew. I was crystal clear. I genuinely believed you would finally comprehend the damage you caused, and work to mend that damage.

This time you abandoned me. You perceived my anguish as some guilt-tripped, passive-aggressive rant, and instead of Getting It, you felt it convenient to dismiss me altogether. Because how dare I call you out for not being there for me. Somehow it was easier for you to cast a friend aside instead of just owning up to dragging things out far longer then they needed to. And the sad part was, I actually believed it was my fault. I was more despondent after you ghosted me then when you failed to keep a promise. I shed layers of my self-esteem for each and every message you read and refused to answer. The thoughts came back…for what? Driving away a friend that never cared about me to begin with? You have no idea how much I wish I could take back all those apologies, all the begging just to keep you in my life. You didn’t want to be friends with me-why should I be friends with you? And why should I apologize for doing nothing wrong?

You alienated me. You pushed me away. And then, you did the same thing to your girlfriend.

I can’t say I wasn’t a spectator. I’ve always said nothing slips by me. And when I put the pieces together, I was fucking validated. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t alone. You were capable of hurting someone else and making them resent you just as much as I did. I still feel bad for her. Mainly because she knew you for what, twice as long as I did, at least? And she started out as a friend. I wonder…how did you end it? Who else have you driven away?

You and I are no longer friends, but then again we probably shouldn’t have been. There’s a special phrase for you…time and place friend. The friend who exists to interact with you at a very specific point in your life-work, on line at the supermarket, on vacation-then depart when they’ve served their purpose. Go ahead, chat with me, hang out with me, keep me company. I’m never going to see you again.

When our time and place friendship ceased to exist, that could have been it. Sure, we’d see each other on social media, but that would be the extent of our association. Except, I wanted to be your friend. An actual friend. Far cry from the past version of myself who had no use for friendships, but things change. I learned to enjoy interacting with others. What was stopping me from reaching out to time and place friends if I enjoyed interacting with them? So I reached out. I texted you, and you texted me back, as it should be. And soon enough, we became real friends. Long-distance friends, but real friends nonetheless. With similar interests, heart-to-hearts on women and positivity, even the frequent inside joke about my Lawng Island accent. Cawfee, chawcolate, you get the picture. I looked up to you. I put you on a pedestal. I made you my friend. And look where that got me.

I don’t regret our friendship. The conversations and handful of meetups made me happy. So why should I regret being happy? But you, to put it plainly, fucked up. You did not treat me how friends are supposed to treat each other. You failed to be there in my time of need, and then refused to take any responsibility when I called you out. And you actually thought I would be okay with that?

No. Absolutely not. I am not the one who lost a friend.

My time and place friend…my best friend…

The people who need you...take them seriously. Because they notice…they remember.

And that being said, what else do I remember? Oh, yeah…

Happy Birthday John.