The Limits of Friendship
I moved to Montreal after graduating university in 2008. I had arranged to graduate early, because I wanted to move to Toronto to be with the person I loved. That didn’t work out… I didn’t know what to do…
I was so depressed I nearly died from it. I still struggle with those feelings. Less and less, but they’re still there.
I decided to go back to Montreal. A city I loved. A city I love.
I moved into a great apartment in the building next to where my best friend of fifteen years lived. I was immediately accepted into her group of friends. I had great friends. I found a great job. Things were looking up, sort of. I was also heavily depressed. I cried several times a day, every day, all the time.
Things were tense between my best friend and I, and I didn’t know why. Things just felt weird. A feeling I expressed to one of the friends we had in common at the time. She suggested I talk to her about it, but I wasn’t even able to explain it to myself and couldn’t figure out how to even broach the subject.
Ok, so, I took the cowardly route and decided to wait it out until whatever it was would blow over. It didn’t.
My uncle died, the person I loved didn’t even return my call when I called him about my uncle, and about a week later I was fired. I can’t blame them, not really. I was so depressed, I was like a walking zombie. I would take bathroom breaks so I could cry a couple of minutes a day. I had no savings. No credit to rely on. No prospects. Heartbroken. Depressed. A real mess.
Right about this time, my best friend left for a two to three month trip to South America. The only thing that kept me going where the amazing people I had in my life. It felt amazing to be part of this group of incredible people.
It didn’t last.
As soon as my best friend came back from her trip, things started to go south again. The tension I spoke of before, got ten times worse and I had no idea why. Only now, it wasn’t only a feeling, but things started to be said and done that were making the situation worse.
Things got bad, really bad. It’s not just that my friendship with that particular person completely fell apart, but that it poisoned my entire life. I was suddenly the odd man out. I have never felt so alienated in all of my life, except for maybe high school. I didn’t know what to do…
I shut myself off, and eventually when I could take it anymore I moved.
I’m still not quite sure what happened to break that friendship up. The details aren’t important anymore. I just know that I have no desire to be friends with her again, which isn’t to say it’s not hard. I’ve never found it easy to make friends. I always feel a little awkward at first, and it ain’t easy to start over when you’re thirty.
I always thought my friendships, the good ones, the strong ones would last forever, but what happens when love isn’t enough? Maybe I was naive to believe it would be…
When do you stop fighting for something that is slipping away? When do you stop trying to hang on to something that just isn’t working anymore? When do you let go of people that hurt you? What are the limits of friendships?