During the process of finding my own pearls within, the crossed boundaries that once went unchallenged become intolerable. A person who said I was her best friend used me. Her voice, though sweet, spoke bitter blades that swiped and cut. I was used as her personal trash bin and allowed it.
In the last few years, I spoke up about it. I see her less because I’m less useful to her since she cannot dump on me any longer. I won’t allow it. I saw her in the store today with her daughter. A chill permeated the embrace I instigated. I hugged her with warmth, forgiving, and not even mentioning her complete absence when I was so sick— no call, no card, no nothing.
I’m slow as to friendship and what that means, and when it’s over. And it’s OK if it’s over. I’ve gone months without anything from her and have been fine. I’m better off without those who feel more like my worst enemy than my best friend. She used to describe our relationship that way until I began speaking up about what hurt(s) me.
I don’t care to keep a ‘friend’ who really is just a learning tool, a person to learn to speak up to. That’s not a friend but a stone wall. I respect myself too much to allow her to use me that way even if it means losing what seems already lost.