an open letter to a bad friend.
I wanted to leave this place as soon as I arrived 5 years ago. I thought every day about how I could end my lonely existence because even though I loved my husband and was excited about our new life together, there was a constant dark cloud of depression, homesickness, and friendlessness hovering over my heart.
Then, your friendly smile made an appearance, and I can just about say that you saved my life.
You went through some hard times, and I did what I could to make those times less painful; even if it was just offering a listening ear. I was there while you were trying to find yourself and what made you happy in different places, relationships, and activities. I was there for every random comment, spur-of-the-moment outing, newest fad, passing theory, most recent annoyance; every overdramatized moment that makes you the drama queen I learned to love as my best friend.
I went through some hard times, and you did what you could to make those times less painful. You drove 40 miles at the drop of a hat to pick me up when I needed you, you were always on my side, and you offered advice, comic relief, and distractions that kept me going day to day.
At one point, however, you made up your mind about what I needed to do with my life. And your advice became more like instructions, and your comic relief became more like cleverly disguised insults. My distractions became self-destructive behaviors but you didn’t tell me to stop; you just kept blaming the source of my pain and making it bigger with every comment you made. I never lied to you. But I should have told you that I was hurting, and not just for the reasons you believed I was.
I cut you out in the wrong manner. I was a coward and I ran away from what I knew was going to be your most dramatic, most disapproving, most hurtful assessment of the decision I had made about the direction my life would take next. Was I wrong? Nope, that’s exactly what you did. Just not to my face. But I still take full responsibility for doing you wrong and I apologized sincerely… a hundred times. The fact that you won’t accept my apologies (even though everyone else has) tells me that you’re using that circular reasoning you love to justify still being angry and that there’s something else that’s not even my fault thrown in there just for kicks.
I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I've corrected bad moves, bad thoughts, and bad attitudes. I only wish I still had my old best friend to share my joy with. And I know you’re feeling an empty space too because I’ve seen your attempts to fill it. I don’t need a bad friend, though; maybe if you were so quick to reject me because things didn’t go your way, we’re better off this way.
Whew, there it is. Whether you read this or not, it’s finally off my chest.