In my early forties, my attitude to friendship has somewhat changed in contrast to my twenties. These days I prefer to reside on my sofa with a tv remote control and a snack in close vicinity. My days of dancing on the dance floor till the earlier hours of the morning are officially over along with the friendships which I had acquired during this musical time.
The only person who I readily embrace is my dance partner for life my husband, who occasionally interrupts my comforting routine with one of his many observations about a subject who has just so happened to appear on our tv screen. It silently dawns on me during these unwinding periods that I am finally at peace now that the turbulent friendships of my earlier adult life have descended out of the door.
But sometimes the urge to revisit one of these ex friends social media accounts leads me to scroll across my phone screen. During this time, I may sometimes fall upon a picture of us, when everything was perfect in our friendship, and we were blissfully unaware about what the future had in store for us. Whilst reminiscing about the past I occasionally have the sudden urge to like this ex friends post or even phone them and conclude our past disagreements.
However, this is short lived when I discover a recent post from them which could be a rant about how they now love themselves or how we should all unite during these turbulent times. This briefly amuses me as I recall the truth about the new stranger; they have always loved themselves and in reality, they thrive from dividing people or conquering anyone who gets on the wrong side of their path. As their words continue to unfold across my phone screen, I become more uncomfortable because that familiar feeling of entrapment meets me once again.
You see they are the master of manipulation; their games could even make the most well-versed player of life doubt themselves. Sadness greets my body once again with the same ferocity as a late night train speeding forward to meet its familiar destination.
In order to recompose myself I breath slowly and only stop when my husband’s voice brings me back to my new peaceful reality. After briefly enjoying this peaceful interlude, I scroll of the ex-friend’s social media page and place my phone on the coffee table, however past thoughts about them now dance around my head like a contemporary dancer trying with all their might to captivate an agent’s attention from the audience.
But as my thoughts start to calm down, clarity appears to me in an instant. It now dawns on me that I no longer miss their intense conversations, which used to manipulate me into their way of thinking. Nor do I miss their fake “I love yous” which they would give out so casually like tissues in a counsellor’s therapy room. Gone are the days of receiving the silent treatment for not being complaint to their emotional demands and boy I am glad! Their routine of tearing my character apart with one of their hurtful sentences, which would always be written off as a joke is another trait of theirs I am good without.
The times of them soaking up my emotional family dramas so they could share them with a crowd of clowns are never to be repeated again. I am strong now and like a bird whose broken wing has healed I am flying to a place where the view is a lot more pleasant and enriching.
Goodbye to their competitive games and their painful smiles when viewing one of my triumphs. I have also removed the stumbling blocks which they used to conveniently place at the front of my feet so they could watch me fall. I no longer miss them would you? The famous lines from Greta Garbo in the film, The Grand Hotel, now resonates with me more than ever, “I want to be alone.”
