When I was at university, I was friends with a girl, who studied the same course as I did. She lived on the road parallel to mine during our final year; she brought round home made soup when I was ill, we had a weekly date night to watch Glee together, and we regularly went out together.
As languages students, we all had to spend our third year abroad. Whilst for some of us, this scattering across various countries meant opportunities for free holidays to other towns, countries, or continents, others, including the girl described above, disappeared off the face of the Earth. The majority of us used our peers as a support network, celebrating our successes, however trivial, or asking for help when we felt out of our depth. This girl’s mistake, was not using Facebook, the source of all information for university students.
When we returned to university for our final year, there was much disappearance related banter aimed in her direction, which, to her credit, she took with good grace. She integrated back into the group, and all was well.
Until we approached graduation.
Faced with the imminent dispersal of our group, we all wondered, not just silently, if her Facebook resistance meant that she would be lost to us once again.
She insisted otherwise, promised to make an effort to use Facebook, and we all had email address and phone numbers, in other words, non Facebook means of communications.
To begin with, it was promising. Regular Facebook activity and texts kept us updated with her activities, and her with ours. It wasn’t to last however, and a few months after graduation, having temporarily relocated to Canada, Facebook went silent.
Not inconsiderable numbers of messages, wall posts, texts and emails all went unanswered. The only reason we knew she was still alive was that various other of her new friends tagged her and posted photos of her enjoying herself.
Eventually, we all had to accept that she wasn’t interested in staying in touch with us. There came a point where we had to let go.
Recently I have found myself wondering if I should make the same decision about other friends. When is the right time to let go? How much effort should you make, without receiving any in return? If they were truly interested in continuing the friendship, wouldn’t they be the one contacting you, every once in a while?
Two particular cases in point:
Another university friend, has for a good year or so now, been reluctant to commit herself to any sort of physical meeting.
This is particularly painful, given that we were such good friends at university, that she was a bridesmaid at my wedding.
Post university, pre-wedding, I saw her multiple times, despite the two hour travel time. I visited her, she visited me, we visited other friends together. We spoke frequently and I felt I knew what was going on in her life.
Post wedding, any reunion I tried to organise, on a large group or small selective scale, she wouldn’t commit to. Frequently, she cited existing commitments, without suggesting alternative dates when she was free. Other times, she committed in principle, only to renege the week before, one time even admitting scheduling a last minute family day out which clashed with our planned day out. I saw her once for a bridesmaid reunion, once at a wedding, when she didn’t seem to be particularly enjoying the uni reunion, and once for my birthday, when I organised a group trip back to our university town. Even then, she seemed keener on napping and getting a replacement phone than spending time with us. In comparison, I see other friends once every few months, for those who live further away, and at least once a month for those who live within an hour.
I’ve grown so frustrated with her lack of commitment and willingness, and yet I still invite her, still try to work around her. I still text her, Facebook her, and generally, she is responsive. Unless it’s in regards to a potential meeting.
I have previously put it down to her being very family oriented, wanting to spend time with her parents, brother and grandparents. Still living at home, she perhaps doesn’t have the independent streak that the rest of us do, and prefers the comfort of the familiar. But what hurts even more, is that in the past few months, I have started to see Facebook posts showing her spending weekends away with other friends. Even one in Cornwall, which is twice the distance between us. Why is she so willing to commit to spending time with them, but not with me? She’s become a social butterfly, if her Facebook is to be relied upon, but she seems to have forgotten her uni friends.
How much longer should I continue to include her? In my heart I know that if she wanted to see me, she would make the effort. But I just can’t let the friendship die.
Another more recent friendship I find myself reconsidering, is with a work colleague, and of a shorter duration than those described above.
I’ve worked in the same department as this colleague for almost two years now, but really got to know them a year ago, when we worked closely together for around three months. Of all the people in that team, we were the two who clicked the most. Even other colleagues noticed how well we got on.
In the months after finishing that project, we still communicated regularly, and I felt like I’d made a true friend. Several months later, they went away with work for three months, and I went to visit them halfway through, for a weekend.
Fast forward six months, and I started to feel like our friendship was somewhat unequal. Just little indicators at first, like unanswered text messages, or requests for help being more frequent than general chats. But we still did things together, going to concerts, days out, gym sessions.
Then it became bigger. On a work weekend away, this colleague made themselves rather unpopular by skipping group activities, in favour of sleeping in. The rest of us agreed we hadn’t travelled so far, purely to sleep, when we could have done that at home. As I was the main organiser, I felt quite hurt that they didn’t appear to appreciate the effort it takes to organise such an event, and couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed.
I was grateful to realise I wasn’t the only one who felt like this though, when other colleagues messaged me to say they thought this colleague had behaved rather rudely.
And this one big let down started me thinking on the other smaller let downs. Birthday cakes, help with organising, attendance at other smaller social occasions. All promised, but never realised.
Two days following the weekend away, I received a work query from this colleague, in relation to something I no longer deal with. Which, on the instruction of another incensed colleague, I ignored. There was no thank you for organising the weekend, no ‘how are you?’. This email really got to the crux of the issue for me, it was an unashamed case of using me for my knowledge, rather than caring for me as a person.
Despite the fond memories I have of time spent with this person, I feel that this is one friendship that I can let go. Perhaps it’s because it hasn’t lasted as long as others. Perhaps because deep down, I’ve felt for some time that I valued the friendship more than they did. Perhaps it was just one let down too many.
The silver lining to this cloud, is that being able to make the decision to let go of this friendship, that certainty with which I know that I will feel better, once I accept it is over, only reinforces my feeling that my bridesmaid friendship is too valuable to lose.
