Dearest Taylor
You’re a user and I don’t want to be friends with you. There I said it. These past months have been so stressful (separating from Adam, filing for divorce, moving to New York). You had to go ahead and ruin my girls’ weekend in Palm Springs. Whenever I think about my first time to California, I’ll think of you, so annoying. You embarrassed me every other minute. Not that I had the extra money to spend, but I plotted to move us to another hotel and to leave you behind (you’re lucky Marla talked me out of it). I should’ve listened to my gut, it was practically begging me not to invite you from the start. Too bad I felt guilty and did it anyway.
I’m a go with the flow, path of least resistance kind of person. Someone wants to be friends, I’m like cool, let’s be friends. Adam wanted to date me, I was like awesome someone is interested in having sex with me, let’s do this. I typically go where people lead me (I think that’s called being a follower). Maybe you noticed this weakness and that’s why you came on strong and insisted we be friends when you moved into the apartment next to us. It’s true, I have a hard time saying no. I’m telling you now that’s gonna change, yes I’m telling myself this so it actually does.
Tell me this, how is it that you forget your wallet nearly every single time we hang out and somehow I end up paying your half of the bill. Question, do you do that to your other friends or just me? You probably owe me like a thousand dollars. Why do you think I have that kind of extra money lying around and how is it that you have money to buy ridiculous amounts of expensive shoes, clothes, and purses but can’t manage to buy yourself a drink when we’re together? We’re not married, my money is not your money. My guess is you put all those clothes on credit cards to make yourself feel better about your life and have no cash because you’re paying the minimum on the cards. I don’t care how you spend your money, that’s your business. I do care when you ask to spend my money because you’ve spent too much of your own money and have none left (and by none, I mean you have no credit). Don’t push me over because I’m a pushover.
I hate myself for agreeing to pay for your hotel room in Palm Springs. I should’ve refused, then you wouldn’t have come, if only I was a strategic person. I hate talking about and asking for money (even if I’m owed it). You know what I hate more, you, for putting me in this situation. Hate is not an emotion I want to feel, to be honest. Go find a job that pays you more or a husband to fund your lifestyle, I’m not your personal bank.
Add to the list of reasons why I’m rethinking our friendship, you thrive off drama and pick fights with people. How about that time you accused me of trying to seduce the guy you had a crush on even though I was married? Please note, the concept of seduction is so foreign to me, I couldn’t seduce a male prostitute (okay maybe not the best example). I tried telling you I’m bad at being sexy (and you accused me of lying, like okay sure, what woman lies about that?) You made me feel like I’d actually slept with this guy I can’t remember that’s how much he mattered. I went home and cried that night after you screamed at me and said our friendship was over. I should’ve said okay cool see ya bye, but I wasn’t strong enough. I’m not a psychiatrist or psychologist (can’t keep track of the difference, but I’m neither), but you must’ve grown up around so much drama now that you’re an “adult” you have to manufacture it in your own life because you crave it. Too bad you lack a little something called self-awareness so it’s not like you’re able to understand the point I’m trying to make. Pretty sure the world would be a better place if self-awareness pills were available over the counter at CVS, but that’s another story.
I asked everyone in Palms Springs what I should do with you. Lisa said I should have empathy for you (that one is a god damn saint, I don’t how she does it). I wasn’t a fan of that advice, so I went to Marla. She said you’re not a friend worthy of my time and told me to distance myself from you. She was appalled you were flaunting your Rolex watch and Gucci purse then asking me to pick up the tab for your drinks and dinner. I wouldn’t let her take you down a notch and call you out. I guess because it would’ve made for an uncomfortable rest of the weekend, but I should’ve told her to go right ahead. She described you as a delusionally toxic person who takes advantage of people and inflicts her insecurities on anyone in her path (seems harsh, but that’s the perfect way of describing you). Marla is really good at seeing people for who they are.
Oh and how about that time when you launched into a tirade about what a pussy Adam was for no reason (can we make it so the only people who can use that word are lesbians and possibly cat owners)? I was so shocked by your rudeness, I didn’t know what to say and I regret not defending him. Adam is the salt of the earth and he treated me well, unlike you, so please go away. I’m kinda a late bloomer so I’m just learning friends are a conscious choice you make. For years, the people in my life chose me. That’s not how I’m trying to live my life anymore. We only have so much time on Earth and I’m living with intention these days (that’s so LA and I don’t have an ounce of LA in me). Taylor, I intend to live a life without you in it. We’re not next door neighbors anymore so you can’t show up at my place unannounced (although I fully expect you to track down my NYC address and to appear on my doorstep). Please don’t do this, I’ve been mentally preparing to shut the door in your face if you show up. Don’t try me girl.
Friendship is a choice and I’m choosing not to be friends with you, how do I tell you we need to go our separate ways? Maybe, just maybe, if I ignore your texts you’ll figure it out without me spelling it out for you (see there I am still going for the path of least resistance)? Fingers crossed.
Andrea
