In how many ways could one end a friendship? And what could be the reasons for its end? In the past many, many months, I’d heard, or must I say, read (through text!), the most unbelievable lines that ended a friendship, lines that had me in shock as my mind raced with questions that were only answered recently.
Several days and nights had found me weeping, not merely crying, at the loss of such relationships. Friends, those who have stayed, had found me staring out into space during conversations. I had so many questions like “how come it was so easy for them to end the friendship as if with just the blinking of their eyes or the snapping of their fingers?” Behind all the questions was one big “WHY?” Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the end? With the passage of time, the questions had remained unanswered. No explanations had been offered, no “closure talks” had taken place. We’ve since gone on with our lives, changed addresses, met new people, gone places without the other, and made plans without thinking of the other. I’ve been attending to my enlarged, and still enlarging, territory.
One recent Saturday, in the midst of watching TV, trying to take a nap, and playing with the dog (talk about multitasking!), the answer came, in a voice so distinct, so clear that it made me pause—it was so easy for them to let go of the friendship because there was no friendship in the first place, or the friendship stood on a wrong and weak foundation.
And now that I have the benefit of hindsight, I believe the answer was right.
While I had felt that there was something amiss in the friendship while I was still in it, I just ignored the feeling, I being not the type to count the cost of sacrifices I make just to make a friendship work or to make it worthy of being called a “friendship.” But how foolish of me for having thought of those relationships as a friendship, and how much more foolish could I have been for having thought of those people as my friends when I myself consider the words “friends” and “friendship” as something so sacred that for me, it takes time and trials to know if a friendship is genuine or to even call someone my friend. Heck, at the slightest sign of pressure or strain, the other person just always decided to let go of the friendship while I would exert all effort to restore it. So much for being tested! And so much for keeping promises of friendship!
Lesson? When you feel you’re being shortchanged in a relationship, in small or big ways or worse, both, you’re probably right. When you feel you are the only one working to keep a relationship, you’re probably right. A friendship doesn’t have to be a burden; it doesn’t have to be difficult to keep if there are two people keeping it. The sad thing is when there is only one person holding it tightly while the other one is ready to let go of it any time the going gets tough. Then, it is not worthy of being called a friendship and the other person is not worthy of being called a friend. Just end the il/delusion and move on.
Showing posts with label timelines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label timelines. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Timelines and Smiles
For P.
Fifteen months. I count the number of times you smiled, the number of times we shared a meal, and the number of times we shared a laugh. I read each entry in my diary and paint the picture in my mind. I still remember the moments vividly, the colors so bright, your voice, your eyes. But I wonder why my heart doesn’t skip a beat and the memories don’t make me smile; they don’t make me cry.
I never said goodbye, afraid to obliterate you from my life. Unsure whether to forget a promise or just keep it in my heart, filed within the recesses of my mind.
Goodbye. I tried uttering the word in the many moments I was alone. My mind agreed but my heart did not. One last smile, I said, one last smile and I would like to feel if my heart would skip a beat and if I myself could smile.
One last smile. I would like to see if I would long to kiss your lips and melt in your embrace.
Just last night. I longed to share a laugh, a meal, perhaps. I longed to touch your face and hug you tight.
Tonight. You smiled that one last smile. I looked into your eyes and did not see me. My heart didn’t skip a beat and I couldn’t smile. I turned my back, walked away, ran down the stairs, and asked myself “is this goodbye?”
February 2, 2009
Ed. February 4, 2009
Fifteen months. I count the number of times you smiled, the number of times we shared a meal, and the number of times we shared a laugh. I read each entry in my diary and paint the picture in my mind. I still remember the moments vividly, the colors so bright, your voice, your eyes. But I wonder why my heart doesn’t skip a beat and the memories don’t make me smile; they don’t make me cry.
I never said goodbye, afraid to obliterate you from my life. Unsure whether to forget a promise or just keep it in my heart, filed within the recesses of my mind.
Goodbye. I tried uttering the word in the many moments I was alone. My mind agreed but my heart did not. One last smile, I said, one last smile and I would like to feel if my heart would skip a beat and if I myself could smile.
One last smile. I would like to see if I would long to kiss your lips and melt in your embrace.
Just last night. I longed to share a laugh, a meal, perhaps. I longed to touch your face and hug you tight.
Tonight. You smiled that one last smile. I looked into your eyes and did not see me. My heart didn’t skip a beat and I couldn’t smile. I turned my back, walked away, ran down the stairs, and asked myself “is this goodbye?”
February 2, 2009
Ed. February 4, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)