Jake,
It feels a little strange to be saying this to you now - 30 years since we graduated from high school - but I don't need you anymore. I didn't end the sentence with an exclamation point because I'm neither ecstatic nor angry. I'm nostalgic, peaceful, and satisfied.
Last weekend when I was in town, I felt the need to see you, so I dropped in and caught you home alone. It was uncomfortable and awkward from the start. I guess I should have supposed it would be. When I sent you "my story" in early April, you said you were really busy with tax season and would get back with me when it was over. Even then, I knew you wouldn't. You have never been the one to initiate any form of contact, even though you professed to enjoy it when I reached out to you. For some reason I felt I owed you the courtesy of knowing a personal aspect of my life before it became public in a book published by Deseret Book. When you opened the door, it wasn't the usual, "Bravoooonnne!" "Hey" was all you could muster.
We talked about our lives, mainly yours, for the better part of an hour. During the conversation, I could feel myself pulling away emotionally, finally giving myself permission to not really care about you anymore. For the past 30 years, I haven't missed a birthday call, haven't ever stopped feeling the desire to be part of your life, haven't shed the need to be accepted by you. When I got up to leave, instead of the usual hug goodbye, you maintained an uneasy distance which seemed to represent your discomfort. This time, however, instead of letting it say something about me, I realized it spoke volumes about you, about the shallowness of your friendship and character.
When I walked down the sidewalk to my car, where I once would have felt rejected and discarded, this time I felt liberated from years of self-inflicted second class status, from years of one-sided friendship, from teen-like hero worship. I walked away feeling confident and content that I no longer NEED you. I don't resent you. I wish you no ill will. I'm grateful for the good that did come from our friendship. Associating with you gained me acceptance in the "popular" groups at school, and propped up my feeble sense of self-worth at a critical time in my young life. What I felt for you was closer to pity than anything.
You don't really know me. I'm a good man, the husband of a beautiful wife, the father of four wonderful, well-adjusted children, a successful businessman, and a respected leader in my community. I'm still a good friend, but now I'm a friend to people who reciprocate my friendship. The friends I have now are true friends I not only continue to build happy memories with, but also can turn to when times are tough. Many times I don't even need to turn to them because they are tuned in enough to sense when I need a kind word, or helping hand.
So, all my best to you Jake. You won't be seeing me because I don't need you anymore.
It feels a little strange to be saying this to you now - 30 years since we graduated from high school - but I don't need you anymore. I didn't end the sentence with an exclamation point because I'm neither ecstatic nor angry. I'm nostalgic, peaceful, and satisfied.
Last weekend when I was in town, I felt the need to see you, so I dropped in and caught you home alone. It was uncomfortable and awkward from the start. I guess I should have supposed it would be. When I sent you "my story" in early April, you said you were really busy with tax season and would get back with me when it was over. Even then, I knew you wouldn't. You have never been the one to initiate any form of contact, even though you professed to enjoy it when I reached out to you. For some reason I felt I owed you the courtesy of knowing a personal aspect of my life before it became public in a book published by Deseret Book. When you opened the door, it wasn't the usual, "Bravoooonnne!" "Hey" was all you could muster.
We talked about our lives, mainly yours, for the better part of an hour. During the conversation, I could feel myself pulling away emotionally, finally giving myself permission to not really care about you anymore. For the past 30 years, I haven't missed a birthday call, haven't ever stopped feeling the desire to be part of your life, haven't shed the need to be accepted by you. When I got up to leave, instead of the usual hug goodbye, you maintained an uneasy distance which seemed to represent your discomfort. This time, however, instead of letting it say something about me, I realized it spoke volumes about you, about the shallowness of your friendship and character.
When I walked down the sidewalk to my car, where I once would have felt rejected and discarded, this time I felt liberated from years of self-inflicted second class status, from years of one-sided friendship, from teen-like hero worship. I walked away feeling confident and content that I no longer NEED you. I don't resent you. I wish you no ill will. I'm grateful for the good that did come from our friendship. Associating with you gained me acceptance in the "popular" groups at school, and propped up my feeble sense of self-worth at a critical time in my young life. What I felt for you was closer to pity than anything.
You don't really know me. I'm a good man, the husband of a beautiful wife, the father of four wonderful, well-adjusted children, a successful businessman, and a respected leader in my community. I'm still a good friend, but now I'm a friend to people who reciprocate my friendship. The friends I have now are true friends I not only continue to build happy memories with, but also can turn to when times are tough. Many times I don't even need to turn to them because they are tuned in enough to sense when I need a kind word, or helping hand.
So, all my best to you Jake. You won't be seeing me because I don't need you anymore.
13 comments:
Wow. I didn't need to get this emotional before bed. If I become even half of the amazing man you are I would be happy. I have always loved you and looked up to you for so many reasons and you continue to amaze me and give me more and more reasons to continue to do so. Thank you for sharing this. Thank you for being you. Thank you for being my friend. I love you!
Andy, I'm so glad were friends! I love you!
For what it's worth, I still need you... Don't walk away from everyone who may be a bit hestitant.
This really struck a chord with me. I've done the same thing so many times - being the "one" in a one-sided friendship. I am learning to leave them behind, just as you are. Thanks for the booster-shot!
I've had this same experience with friends in the past and although sad I was able to come to terms that the kind of life-long friendships we talked about when we were younger was never meant to be. Sometimes you need to do it not for them for you.
Hugs,Miguel
While it wasn't a 30-year relationship, I too was liberated from something that sounds similar. It's an amazing feeling isn't it, the moment you realize you're worth more than you think?
Late to the party as usual, but boy do I feel connected to this post. I mean, you could have been writing my story really. I am coming to grips with the fact that I am decidedly less important to some old friends than they are to me. It hurts to realize this and to be willing to stop piling wasted effort on top of wasted effort. I feel a post coming on. Thank you Brave One.
Ninja, I have missed you! Thanks for dropping in. Maybe I can see you at the North Star Christmas Fireside on the 11th?
Beck, Hesitancy is one thing. Neglect and rejection are quite another. This post is more about my growing self-acceptance and personal sense of well-being. I have always felt I "needed" his friendship, his acceptance. Now I realize I don't need his friendship to validate myself. If he wants to be a better friend, I am willing. I will always be here for him and for other, but I won't grovel. I realize that friendship is a gift. Your gift is accepted and appreciated.
Miguel, Good point. Thanks.
Neal, GMP, ControllerOne, I can tell you understand and can relate to how I feel. It is a blessing to realize your own sense of self-worth. Thank you.
you wrote "This time, however, instead of letting it say something about me, I realized it spoke volumes about you, about the shallowness of your friendship and character."
I really like this. I don't think that most people ever see things like that, but I think it is a very true way of saying things. People speak hurtful words not because of who we are, but because of who they are.
thanks for sharing this.
This post is much more about my victory over shame than it is about my friend.
Relationships are a two-way street, and need "traffic" going both directions. When a person like Jake sticks a "Dead End" sign on his street, the relationship is over, leaving only a past association. Why does this happen? Who knows? But the sooner one accepts the reality of the it, the healthier one is. Having an authentic, genuine friend like you Steve is one of life's enjoyments.
Steve,
Fantastic! Exclamation point required ;) ... You are truly an example to all of us who have tried to build ourselves up from the outside, in... Keep it up!
Liz
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