Susan Senator

Ned and I went out for a little Thai food last night. We were talking about the nature of friendship, because I have just had a falling out with a pretty good friend. She is a writing friend of mine. This was someone I have considered a close friend for about 3 years. The problem is that I don’t feel like she was comfortable with my novel, even though she said she liked it. I could not engage her in an email conversation over it, and I did not want to talk to her on the phone about it, but I did suggest we meet. Something about email relaxes me (but I know it does not relax others); something about phone makes me feel disconnected and yet cornered. Meeting face-to-face over coffee is just about one of my favorite things to do. It is not as big a committment of time as lunch, so you know it won’t last too long if you don’t enjoy it; and yet you can linger over those last few drops of French roast if you are having a really good time.

Ned and I were trying to pinpoint the differences between friend and colleague; and close friend and just friend. Ned thought that this whole writing-as-the-friendship-binder was not quite enough; he felt that that would make a great collegial relationship, but that a friendship needed more. The thing is, I often want to be friends with my colleagues, after I get to know them, but they usually know before I do that it isn’t the greatest fit. I was on the school board with eight others for almost five years and I grew to love all of them, even though many times one or all drove me crazy with their viewpoints or ways of doing things. But I would have been friends with any of them, I think. But I guess they didn’t feel the same, because it didn’t really happen — at least, not the way I wanted it to. Or maybe I’m kidding myself, because I didn’t make any real effort to be friends either.

But then I also wonder about effort: the kind of friendship I really look for is the kind I don’t even look for. There is no visible effort; it just kind of happens. It evolves. Sometimes I don’t even notice this person at first; but then they get on my radar screen. But usually, once I love a person, I always love a person. I go through a period of realizing their flaws and I back off, disappointed that they turned out to be human. But then I come back, having adjusted to the limitations that were probably always there but I just didn’t see them in my honeymoon period. (I’m sure other people are much better at seeing my flaws right away, because I have so many and they are worn right on my sleeves, right along with my heart!)

One thing people in my life don’t seem to understand or be able to put up with easily is that I get really angry at them sometimes. Even when I think I am controlling it and being diplomatic, it scares the hell out of them. I wish I could reassure them that it’s just my feelings, and here’s what they could maybe do to help, but that doesn’t happen either. I often make the other person angry at me because I was angry at them! I don’t think that’s fair, but it happens. I guess there is either something really harsh and scary about my anger or something about them that feels very threatened by another’s anger.

So my friend could not bear my “disappointment” in her response to my novel. She got angry at me and said some things to me that weren’t very nice. Now we’re at a standoff. I need the break, I think, so I’m letting it be for now, which isn’t my usual way. My therapist says that I really can just let this go, not do anything, not think anything. She says that people do that, that friendships are much more fluid than I was raised to believe. That friendships come and go, and it is no one’s fault usually, it is just the nature of things, and it is okay for that to happen.

But I don’t feel comfortable at all with letting people go. I often reach back into the past and try to reconnect with old friends who have fallen away from me. I miss them for the unique thing they once were in my life. I figure that if time has passed then whatever broke us apart may not be as important an obstacle as it once was. So I have quite a few very old connections, and that makes me feel very good, very safe. Maybe it helps that there is a boundary of distance, however (most of them live far away). It is far more difficult maintaining a regular relationship, getting the boundaries right if you see them a lot.

I do understand, though, through therapy, that it is also okay to let people go and that it doesn’t mean I’ve failed in some way. So right now I am just trying to see where this thing with my writing friend takes me to, without more effort or straining on my part. It is slightly uncomfortable because I start to feel worried that I’ve hurt her; but then I remind myself that this thing began with my own feelings and needs not being met…

I wish there were a friendship rule book: How to spot lifelong friends; how to spot people who just want something from you; how to spot warped people; how to disengage without consequence; how to keep the balance of power equal; how to trust the right people. But I probably would never read such book! (I hate How-to’s, even though MPWA is partly a How-to. It’s also a “what not to do” book!)

I have no clever way to end this. Just like my situation with relationships that don’t work…