Dear Carolyn: So. Here’s my dilemma: I’ve been friends with someone since middle school. Like blood. Always at one another’s houses.
I went through some difficult family issues for a number of years and “went dark” — although she’d never actually contacted me during this time — while I dealt with them. A few years ago we reconnected and spent a wonderful day together that felt like old times. I explained the reasons I’d been out of touch, and she shared some of her own struggles and said she understood. I left feeling elated; I’d found my friend again!
That night I get a text she’d meant to send to her husband, saying what a “mess” my family was. There was more to it, but that’s the gist of it. I was devastated and texted her back. She wanted to talk that night, and I just could not — too busy crying and reconsidering decades of friendship.
A few months later I reached out and explained why I was so upset. She suggested we leave things as they were. I agreed. Now with this stupid covid-19, I am feeling a need to get in touch with her to see how she and her family are doing. Feel free to tell me this is pandemic-inspired and completely stupid nostalgia. It would probably help. — I Am That Lame
I Am That Lame: You say nostalgia, I say forgiveness.
You say pandemic-inspired, I say just inspired.
You say stupid, I say, why not?
You want to talk to your friend. What a humble tragedy it would be if you talked yourself out of that impulse just because you thought remaining estranged was the smarter thing to do.
Check in with her. If it turns out not to have been a good idea, then you’ll find that out soon enough, and you’ll bounce back from it as you did the last time. At least you’ll know you tried.
Dear Carolyn: This past winter, my friend “Charlie” and I had sort of a joint revelation that we might make a good couple, and we gave it a shot, starting with a few dates and outings. I felt a spark but he did not, and right before Christmas we talked it over and decided to return to being just friends.
I am sensible enough not to take it personally, and believe there is probably someone out there who would value me more. And I am grateful for Charlie’s continued friendship, but now I’m not sure if the friendship will work the way it used to.
In the past, Charlie used to say encouraging things about how I deserved a great guy. If he were to say something like that in the future, I might be tempted to laugh in his face — to keep from crying, at least. How can I hold on to a friend who is no longer in a position to make me feel good about myself? — Imbalanced
Imbalanced: I know this is not coming in your preferred form — love from Charlie — but:
It’s hard to think of a better reason to feel good about yourself than your brave, rational, self-aware and utterly disarming response to watching this relationship fizzle out.
Such rejections are often quickly repurposed into tees for face-saving platitudes: “It’s Charlie’s loss”; “He doesn’t deserve you”; “You can do better anyway.” You’ve already risen above that, a difficult thing to do. Plus, you’ve done it without hiding your pain behind false bravado.
