breaking up is hard to do

Sometimes, we all need a spot of closure in our lives. That being said I will, with unadulterated shame, admit to being the type of person who needs good, solid endings.  In most everything.

Resolution is my middle name.

Well.  It would be if my parents
hadn’t settled on ‘Renee’.


Late last year a long-time friend and I parted ways.  One morning I awoke to find I was unexpectedly deleted from her life. Figuratively.  And quite literally. It seemed rather abrupt at the time.  Startling.   Puzzling perhaps. In the moment, it seemed somewhat extreme.


However, with the brilliant clarity of time and space, I’m fairly certain ill feelings had been a simmering undercurrent in our relationship for quite some time.  Being mathematically challenged, however, I apparently wasn’t putting two-and-two together to realize just how large the elephant in the room was growing.

At the time the end arrived, I felt blindsided. And rejected.  But somewhere within me, I also felt a sense of relief.  Not at the loss of the friendship, but that something had happened.  That we had now moved off dead center. 


By nature, I am a talker.  I know, y’all are way shocked.  However. I am, and have always been, of the belief that there is scant little that cannot be resolved by open communication. It was a sobering experience to realize that not all people are of the same mindset. 

Really?  Do y’all believe there are actually people out there who are not interested in dissecting issues to infinity and beyond? 



As part and parcel of that observation, I also realized we had a much bigger issue overriding the fact she didn’t enjoy ruminating on any level even close to the art form I’ve elevated it too.

It was the simple fact we are two uniquely divergent people.

I am terribly introspective. I also err on the side of caution.  While I would love to be spontaneous, it’s clearly not in my character make-up. I tend to think and reflect overly much. I enjoy deep, meaningful discussions.  And when I’ve had enough, I need to be alone.  I need to unplug and be silent with myself.

It is her disposition to be more of a ‘do-er’ than ‘planner’.  She’s spontaneous. She likes to be involved, to be ‘on’. She requires more attention, more often. She craves being with people far more than being alone. 


And.  Inevitably, we arrived at the fork in the road. 

I am of the belief that friendship should be uplifting, a partnership that encourages one to strive to be a better self.  Friendship should be a safe haven when things fall apart. 

When it consistently falls short, it’s time to re-assess. 

Over the past several months, I’ve genuinelly accepted the fact we needed to move onto different things.  I can say without any sort of malice, it really needed to happen. I think we both knew it.

I do wish her well. I thank her for the times we were friends. I look fondly on the good times and laughter we shared. I forgive her for her shortcomings in our friendship, as I hope that she forgives me mine.

And in finally committing these thoughts to words, I feel a comforting sense of closure and peace. 

In celebration, I’m going to take my Highly-Introspective, Over-Reflecting Self out for coffee and tell her she’s okay in my book.  And that after all these years, I still love her very much.  Flaws and all.

Because sometimes, she just needs to hear that.