I have one toxic friend that I should have dumped a long time ago. Instead in turned into an affair, which turned into an obsession. He would say no, I would say yes.
In thinking about toxic friends, I realize that I might be a toxic friend. I whine, I complain, I need. Not just to him, but to many. But to him, I would do this. And I would say yes when he would say no.
Now he’s dumped the friendship.
And it’s time.
But it hurts. It leaves a hole. It leaves a cavern. It leaves a crevasse that only the truly brave would cross, on its rickety piece-meal bridge to the other side, swaying in the strong winds of change, threatening to dump the navigator into the gorge below.
And I try to less. But even that is a need. And the need takes over. Like Sisyphus rolling the boulder up a hill, the more you exert, the more you tire, and the less you reach your goal.
And I try to remember he was never really a friend.
J says “when I think of all the times you cried over him, it makes me sick.”
The other J says “you need to stay away from him.”
And others say “Even when we’re in public he talks to you if he has to – its always so forced” and “He was never your friend.”
He said I mean a lot to him. He said I would never have to worry about him becoming chilly. A couple of days later, he was yelling at me and then the next, not speaking to me at all.
Towards the end, I wasn’t a good friend. I wanted what I wanted and pursued it. But, does that count if the person was never a friend to begin with?