When Friendships Die

Friendship’s End

Ending a long-term friendship involves a lot of second guessing, especially if you have been emotionally close. You pour over reasons why the friendship seems to have gone sour, make excuses for sticking it out, guilty over even thinking about dropping the friend from your life, and either decide the problems can be worked out and continue or decide the effort isn’t worth your time. Maybe you take the easy way and stop calling, stop returning calls, and wait for the relationship to die. Maybe you are more courageous and tell the friend how you feel and say goodbye. Then maybe you cry for the loss and comfort yourself with ice cream.

 I have a friend I’ve known for thirty years. I spent a great deal of time with her and her family before I married and had my own kids. I moved to another town and our friendship whittled down to occasional phone calls, though as with anyone you know well, no matter how long it’s been, you pick up immediately from where you left off. After her kids grew up, she and her husband retired to a town next door to mine and we started spending more time together until her husband became critically ill. They insulated themselves instead of reaching out, and I must admit I was too busy getting my kids through puberty to pursue it.

A Friend Changes

After my friend’s husband died and despite the fact that she was no longer the person I remembered, we became inseparable for several years. She has severe medical problems herself and is dependent on narcotic pain killers—doctor supervised and ordered—that have had a definite influence on her personality. It’s called letting your illness become who you are, which is understandable since all the things she used to do and be have become impossible with her medical condition. She hasn’t been able to find anything to replace those lost occupations and focuses mostly on doctor visits and her decreasing abilities. All her other friends from the past have withdrawn.

Two years ago we were supposed to go on an unstructured trip down the eastern coast and visit my parents on the way. I sold jewelry I never wore, but that had sentimental value, to keep from taking money from our limited family budget. The day of the trip, my friend called in tears. She had been having panic attacks for two weeks and just couldn’t bring herself to go. I know she felt horrible, pulling out at the last minute, and the end of our friendship probably took root there, but we continued on as usual for another year until her stubborn, poor choices made her condition and finances worse.

A Natural Death

We still talk, down to every few weeks instead of every day. I listen to her medical problems and financial woes and sympathize. I don’t give advice. She rarely asks about my life. We haven’t seen each other in close to a year and have no plans to. I’ve stopped feeling at least partially responsible for her welfare and was amazed at how little I miss her. Ironically, that does make me sad.