The Ages of Friendship


Is there really a person in this world who has not suffered from a broken heart? I doubt it. Whether it’s the next door neighbor who kissed your best friend when you were 15, the high school boyfriend who forgot about your birthday or the handsome guy whom you fancied and who never threw you a single glance, we’ve each had our share of heartaches.

I’ve had my fair share of them as well. I’ve been cheated on, lied to and I’ve had moments in which I feared my heart would break in infinitesimally small pieces that I would never manage to glue together again.

That my heart would simply remain dry and void, with no love able to recandle its flame again. Nonetheless, I was always wrong. And I always came on top out of all the challenges that love has set on my path for me to live through.

I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve been hurt by men I genuinely cared about. Whether it was their fault for being cowards or players or mine for believing their lies, it’s now beside the point. Nevertheless, none of them ever managed to break me the way my friends did and certainly not as cruelly and as deliberately as them.

We can find reasons for which the men in our lives cheat on us. We embellish their memory with the excuse of weakness, we lay the guilt on ourselves, we backtrack and try to rewind all the moments in which we could have been at fault, to remember what we did so terribly wrong that we became unlovable. We tend to accept more and to put it behind us more swiftly, simply coming to terms with the thought that some men cheat and to believe that the future will bring along the love we dream of.

However, I cannot find one single reason for which a friend would be exempted from the guilt of cheating on us. Although I forgave the men who made me suffer at certain points in my life and even manage to preserve some trace of good memory, it is infinitely as difficult to do the same when it comes to my friends. I’ve had friends betray me and I consider those the real heartaches that life challenged me to live through. You think it’s ironic ? Maybe….Or perhaps it’s just the stubborness with which I refuse to believe that friendship is tainted with the same temptations and superficiality as passionate and fugitive love affairs. Simply because friendship should be more sincere and genuine, at least for me…

I sometimes wonder myself why I have forgiven and put behind me all the faces of the men who brought tears to my eyes and yet find it so heartbreakingly difficult to forgive a friend who has reduced me to tears. Why I can excuse the cheating and the lying of a lover yet find it impossible to forgive the best friend whom I shared joy and sorrow with and who, one day, without notice, decided to fall out of friendship with me without even letting me know.

„Why haven’t you told me? Why couldn’t you be man enough to tell me that you don’t love me anymore?” we yell to the men in our lives when their cheating sees the light of day. We hold them responsible for keeping the truth from us and we feel the earth shattering under our feet when finding out that our beautifully colored reality is nothing else than the product of a child’s naive scribbling with watercolors. And after a spring or a winter, we come to terms with it and we move on.

Nevertheless, it is always immensely more heartbreaking to put behind us the memory of a person who crushed our friendship without thinking twice, who gossiped around our back, told lies or did deliberate things to hurt us. Deliberate and fully willing things to hurt us…perhaps this is what renders their acts so infamous, the entirely lucid desire of hurting a friend and to be as serene and utterly guiltless as they are when confronted with the prove of their cheating.

I honestly think that life makes us grow up and assume our victories and our defeats as such. To learn our lessons and go on with our lives, slightly more cautious and definitely wiser. To think more and to feel less, but also not to offer our friendship so easily, if at all. While we are definitely stronger, deep inside we all miss at times our „age of innocence”, in which friendship was solid and words were true, when there wasn’t yet anything to envy each other for, anything to gossip about, any boyfriends to steal or reputation to ruin. And those are nevertheless good memories to keep for a lifetime.

When reminiscing about the friends who have hurt me, I for one cannot feel any grudge nor anger. Strangely, it is as if all the pain of their betrayal has somehow melted into a serene acceptance and tranquility that is unalterable. And I am grateful for that. I don’t know if it is happy or sad that a person whom you called your best friend becomes a faceless figure in your past, one that you never mention anymore. However, it is sometimes the wise choice and the most understandably selfish one. And there is nothing to be said and nothing to be done, or, as one of my favorite movie characters once put it: „Frankly my dear…I don’t give a damn!”

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  1. Postat mai 20, 2008 la 1:37 pm | Permalink

    I added your blog to my feeds. Nice work!

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