It's Not Me, It's You

Sometimes I wonder why all people are not friends with all people, simply because we are all people; why we need to be "introduced" before we can converse; why we can't smile and wave and say "hey, how ya doin'?" to everyone in the street.  Other times I am shocked that anyone ever finds anything to like about anyone else, considering we are all masses of insecurities and bad habits and hidden fetishes and secret longings.

The problem at hand is this: How do you end a friendship that is no longer nourishing, is in fact harmful to your health and disturbing to your peace of mind? Ironically, I have thrice been on the receiving end of this dilemma: twice I received scathing kiss-off emails which arrived completely out of the blue, to my shock and amazement, and in the third instance, I endured months of silence and unanswered voice messages. In the end I thought, "wow, who knew?" So now that I'm the one doing the breaking up, I'd like to do it in a way that causes little pain or discomfort.

But how? I have no idea, and thus have limped along, sometimes for years, with depleted friendships weighing me down. Case in point: Many years ago my best friend of ten years married a Creep. (That's a creep with a capital C.) He was horrid--in fact, even she thought so--but still, it happened. For five years I tolerated countless uncomfortable evenings, sitting across from him making empty chitchat and dragging my husband and son into the mess. Finally, in a scene straight out of a Neil Simon play, the situation exploded over breakfast inside a New York City coffee shop where the other patrons were treated to the laundry list, at quite a high pitch I might add, of all the inherent ills within the doomed friendship.

All these years later I find that my patience, like my skin, has worn thin, and now I have high blood pressure to boot. (Who knows, the slightest shock could kill me!) It's bad enough when I have to argue with the gas company over an incorrect bill or when that fresh, organic chicken I paid $20.00 for turns out to be frozen--I certainly don't want to have tsouris with a friend because of who I voted for in the last election or what book I haven't read or which TV news organization is the more biased. Besides, it's downright dishonest to spend time with people you don't like; everyone has the right to true and lasting friendship, although not necessarily with me.

Hmmm...if I could just think of a way to tell her.