atropine: (having new eyes)
[personal profile] atropine
There are people who used to be in my life who aren't anymore.

I imagine this is true of most people, but it seems like nobody talks about it. There are cards and parties and social significance for the breakup of romantic relationships - your best friends take you out and either console you or talk shit about your previous partner. It has a pattern, there are rules.

Friendship breakups don't. There are rarely sides (and, really, there shouldn't be). There are no parties memorializing the relationship, there is nobody pushing you to burn that shoebox full of memories.

But, really, my friends have often played a larger part in my life than the people I was romantically involved with. After all, they were the comforters after the end of jobs, romantic entanglements, periods of my life.

And then there are the people who are no longer in my life. A few of them, I asked to leave. Some simply drifted away.

See, I don't end things easily. I have a long, slow boil, a lot of patience and time. But when I'm done with someone? I'm done. Burn the bridge and salt the ground, because I will never go back.


It's not good or bad, but it's me. And I've burned a few bridges in the last ten years - not many, but some.

And I like to pretend that I'm all Zen calm about it, that I accept the things that happened, the hurts caused, the confidences broken. And, often, most of the time, I am. I don't think about these people, I don't miss them in my life. I definitely do not sit around thinking about calling them (well, except one, and she gets to be the exception to every rule), I don't wonder how they're doing, I don't want them around.

I almost never think about them unless someone else asks. And that's good. It's how I know that I did the right thing.

But every once in a while, I see those people interacting with people who are my friends still. And I don't want the friends to choose me, to never associate with those I don't like - it's not that simple. Instead, there is a gut-level reaction that says: "No! X doesn't deserve friends. I want them to be alone and lonely and miserable, just the way that they deserve." And that is sad and petty and totally true.

Nobody's perfect. Not even me.

(no subject)

Date: 2010-03-28 11:55 pm (UTC)
ajnabi: cartoonic photomanip of my face (with some body) against a colourful patterned background (Default)
From: [personal profile] ajnabi
hello. i hope this comment won't come off too weird or creepy or something, though i apologize if it does. i found you through interests search, and i'm struck by this entry. i added you-- no pressure to subscribe/grant access back, of course (and i totally understand, also, if you're comfortable subscribing but not granting access, since, uh, that's why that feature was created here :) if you'd rather not be on my f-list, let me know and i can remove you.

back to this entry-- i can relate. it's true, friendships breaking hurt just as much and often much more than the breaking of romantic relationships. as someone who's polyamorous, i'm coming into the realization that my lovers aren't more important or more major than my friends, and desires and loves are different, but they're all very real. oh, i'm not phrasing that right, and it's a complicated subject, but. burning bridges is so hard, whether you're burning them or the other people are burning them or whether it's a mutual burning or some complicated combination thereof.


atropine: (Default)

May 2009

10 111213141516

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags