Toxic

On December 28th, 2020, four days before her wedding, I told my best friend that I couldn't be her friend anymore. It was the most painful conversation I'd ever had, and yet I can't bring myself to regret it.

Our friendship was rocky from the beginning. I met her in middle school, when she spread a rumor about me and her best friend at the time. We became actual friends in high school, after I stayed late one day to help her with a project. She had a personality that was tough to get along with (a little judgemental and bossy), but she was incredibly loyal and was always there when I needed her. It wasn't the best friendship, but we made it work.

As the years went on and our other friends moved on to bigger and better things, we got closer mostly out of convenience. I can't think of a single interaction that left either of us 100 percent happy; I always felt as though I was walking on eggshells around her, and I could tell that she was completely disinterested in anything I had to say. Yet we continued being friends, mostly because we didn't have anyone else. We had convinced ourselves that this weird bond we had was better than having no one at all.

When she got engaged I was really surprised. She and her boyfriend had been going through a rough time only a few weeks before that (to the point that she stayed on my couch for two weeks) and she wasn't in the best place mentally or physically; an engagement just felt like something to focus on to mask all of the other issues. They had already set a date in mid-June, and while I felt like everything was happening too quickly, I also thought it was my duty as her best friend to support her no matter what.

Not long after I had my first anxiety attack (completely unrelated to the friendship, but still a life-changing event for me), and for the next few months I was in a complete battle with my mind just trying to hold it together. I can't emphasize enough how much those few months changed my life. My entire outlook shifted, my path altered, and it was completely terrifying and overwhelming. But I was a better person for it, because it made me want to change. I wanted to be a better friend and girlfriend; a better daughter and niece. I wanted more out of life than I ever had before. I was also able to come to the realization that I was not being a good friend just by being supportive; I needed to open up to her.

I made a plan to talk with her and tell her how I was feeling. It didn't feel right standing next to her as her "best friend" on one of the most important days of her life if I couldn't even be open and honest with her. Then the pandemic happened, and she had to postpone the wedding. This was a blessing in disguise because it gave me some time to think about what I wanted to tell her.

I was not ready to devote myself to her wedding when I wasn't even sure I wanted to continue being friends. I was feeling awful about all of these thoughts I was having about her, but at the same time venting in my head was the only way I was able to get through any of our interactions. After being forced to reflect on my life and what I needed, it was so hard to be around someone that just lets life happen to them. No matter what it was, she was always the victim and could never take responsibility, and I didn't know how to be around it anymore.

Over the next few months, I could feel myself being more and more drained after every interaction we had. Worse than being drained, I was getting angry. I was angry with her for always complaining and never taking charge in her life. I was angry with her family for always accommodating her. I was angry with her fiance for never standing up to her. I was angry that this had gone on for so long and no one had ever said anything to her.

But at the end of the day, the person I was the most angry with was me, because I didn't even respect her enough as a person to be able to share these thoughts with her. We were supposed to be best friends, but I couldn't even remember the last time we'd had an argument; we always just told each other what they wanted to hear. What kind of a friendship was that? What were we actually gaining from this kind of attachment?

This line of thinking is what inspired me to send a text four days before her wedding. I know it should have been done sooner; I should have had the courage to talk to her years ago. But we can't schedule our epiphanies, can we?

We haven't spoken to each other since I told her why I wasn't going to her wedding. She texted back originally, but there was no hint of change in her texts, just empty apologies.

As I was looking at her beautiful wedding photos a few weeks later I couldn't for the life of me see where I would have fit. I think that was confirmation enough that this journey had come to an end.