When A Friend Breaks Your Heart

When A Friend Breaks Your Heart

How do I explain it? It’s different. The feeling’s different. From when a SO breaks it. It’s different. Confusing. I don’t know. I’ve been heartbroken by a man, I’ve been heartbroken by my family. But something, something is different about this one.

Maybe it’s because I never expected it. I always took pride in how I chose my friends. Honesty. Communication. Mutual respect. Love. Critical and can take criticism. Real meeting real. These and more are the principles that the choosing of my friends is based on. It’s the reason I’ve always had few friends. I nip things in the bud and keep moving. Find someone who meets the characteristics.

My Achilles heel? Once I acknowledge someone as a friend for life, I am loyal for just as long. Fights may come and go. Call outs go back and forth. But no matter what, I’ll still be here. Is that a strength? Most times I think it is. Not this time.

So when they first broke my heart, I made myself small and let it go. The next time, it was as if some part of me was slowly eating itself. Like I was abusing myself, so that I could keep my friendship that’s been built for almost a decade. It wasn’t until I sought council that I finally defended myself. Good yes?

Not completely. It took so much out of me. It made me so tired. Even then, I desperately wanted things to get back to normal. (I forgive you! Let’s be friends!). I wanted to forgive and let go.

However this situation that we were in. There was no getting over smoothly. I can only speak for myself, and for myself it was confusing! My friends don’t hurt me to the core. My friends never break my heart. These are the things I kept telling myself. It was like I needed to get back to normal so that, so that my image of what my friends and I are like, our dynamic, is protected. Because if my image of my friendships was somehow ripped to pieces and burned, how will I ever trust again? If I can’t trust family, if I can’t trust a partner, at least I can always no matter what trust my friends.

But then time passed. I tried and tried and tried to convince myself that everything was going to be okay. We would be normal again. All this awkwardness and weird petty arguments would disperse, and we. will be. Normal again.

We never were. And it got to the point that just like the man who broke my heart, I got tired. I just got so tired. I was exhausted from trying to be okay. It was like our past was hovering above us, behind us, under us, wherever it could sneak it’s way back in. And I fought it as hard as I could. I didn’t want things to end. But I had exhausted myself so much that if I kept going, I’d regret it. Not just regret it for my own self, but I was afraid that if it kept going, the friendship would end in an even more explosive and traumatic way than when this rift between us first showed up.

Make no mistake! Our friendship didn’t end peacefully. To be honest I was quite a coward. But I still think it was necessary.

Hopefully. I pray. I beg. Hopefully, this is not an ending, but a break. Because I love this friend. I love them and appreciate them so much. It’s confusing. And I don’t know what else to say.