breakups | MissyRambles

“Friendship causes heartbreaks, too.” – Unknown

A few days ago, someone on Facebook posted a status about adult friendship. It wasn’t anything poetic – just a simple statement about how hard it is to maintain friendships as adults (especially as women) and that if you’re out there missing that close friendship feeling, you’re not alone. This status resonated with so many, including myself. It was shared, reacted to, and commented on multiple times. I, too, shared it on my own Facebook feed with the caption “we don’t talk enough about this.” It’s been sitting on my mind ever since; so, I decided, “Hey. I have a blog. Let’s talk about it.”

So here I am.

As I sit here, though, I start to see maybe why we don’t talk about it. It’s tough. I’m a writer so I can go on for days about whatever topic is on my mind. But this one? Gosh, I don’t even know where to begin.

Maybe I’ll start by giving a personal example. Now, I do have friends. Close friends even. And I know I have one in particular who’d drop everything and come running if I needed him. But I think that’s just it…as we get older, our “needs” change. I remember when I was younger – any time any small thing happened, I just HAD to tell someone. It was like if someone didn’t know about it, then it didn’t really happen. But these days? Oh, let’s be honest – we have Facebook and other social media for those small things. If something interesting happens in my day, I don’t call up a close friend and tell them about it. I post it on Facebook so they and anyone else who wants to know (and many who don’t) can see every detail.

But the big things? The things that matter?

Now that’s a different story.

I’ve had some rough years lately. I know – we all have. Covid has kicked our butts. But for me, a lot has happened in the past four years that wasn’t at all related to Covid. I’ve lost jobs. I’ve lost loved ones. I’ve had substantial financial issues. I’ve gone through “empty nesting,” only to then have my adult child get desperately ill and move back home. I’ve become a grandma. The more these big things happen, the more mundane the small stuff seems. And as I mature (who knew THIS would finally happen?), I realize that everyone else has crap going on in their lives and they don’t need to be bothered with my stuff. Plus, it’s just harder to talk about the serious stuff. It just is.

So, I don’t.

Another thing that’s happened in these big event years is that I lost a close long-term friendship. No, not by death. It was by choice. We both came to realize that we weren’t supportive of each other anymore. These adult versions of ourselves were very different than the young adult versions were, and we just weren’t that compatible anymore. More than that, we were toxic. I could go into specifics, but I won’t. It just became a pissing contest of, “oh you think that’s bad? Well, check out what it’s like in my life…” And no one needs to be on the giving or receiving end of that nonsense.

So we walked away.

And let me tell you something. It stings.

I’ve ignored it for the most part. It has been about three years now and I’ve yet to really talk about it. I don’t even really want to talk about it now in this blog that is supposed to be about this very topic. But does it hurt? You bet. And what do we humans tend to do when something hurts? We try to make sure we don’t ever feel that pain again. Which means?

Maybe we make sure that friendships don’t matter to us as much anymore. You know? So it won’t hurt as bad when we lose them next time.

Okay, sure. This isn’t a new concept. We talk about this stuff all the time when it comes to relationships. But that’s just it – we talk about relationships. We congratulate, we commiserate, we share, we celebrate – we do all of these things when it comes to relationships. We have marriage ceremonies, engagement parties, heck, even divorce parties where the woman demolishes her wedding dress. We humans honor the shit out of the beginnings and endings of relationships.

But friendships?

Nope. They just kind of come and go with no hoopla. No photo burning parties were held when that aforesaid long-term friendship ended. And on that same token, no parades were had when I met a new good friend during my last theatre show. These things just happen, and we just go on.

But I don’t know…maybe we shouldn’t?

Maybe all these unacknowledged events need a little more acknowledgement. Maybe we’d come closer to healing and rebuilding stronger the next time if we take these things out and examine them once in a while.

When someone makes a status about friendships not lasting like they used to, it should just be a statement. Not a sentiment that brings hundreds of people out in droves to say, “Yeah! That! That’s a thing…why don’t we talk about that?”

So, anyway, here it is. I’m starting the conversation.

Okay, so there’s no earth-shattering news in this blog. No brilliant witty repartee to take with you and share as a Facebook status. Nope. This was just a “hmmm?” blog. Just a “why are we humans like this?” observation.

And hey, maybe you’ll walk away knowing it’s not just you these things are happening to. Not much in this world only happens to us and us alone. Even if it may feel like it because no one is discussing it.

Take care of yourselves out there, folks. You’re never alone. I promise. We’re all just out here trying to figure out this mess as we go.

***

“I’m not alone now either. The world is all around me. People leave, but there are always more coming. The catch is that you have to open the door to let them in.” -Kathy McCullough

“There are people in your life who’ve come and gone
They’ve let you down, you know they’ve hurt your pride
You better put those behind ya, baby, ’cause life goes on
You keep carrying that anger, it’ll eat you up inside…”
– lyrics from Heart of the Matter by Don Henley

This past weekend, I sat outside at a local restaurant listening to my sexy husband sing those lyrics up there from the song Heart of the Matter by Don Henley. Listening to him sing, being so proud to be his wife, and glancing at my surroundings, suddenly my memories started getting the best of me.

I started remembering our past with this song.

Photo of drummer, Richard Edmondson, of the band Restless. Photo credit: friend and fan, Jim Maloney

When I first started dating my husband, about five years ago, we had a pretty rocky start. I don’t think he minds that I tell you this (and I’ve probably referenced it in previous blogs anyway), but when I met Richard he was still in love with someone else. He was fresh out of a long-term relationship and the cut still stung, so to speak.

Now that I know him so well, I know this about him – when he loves, he loves hard. And a strong love like that doesn’t just go away overnight because a blunt, pushy redhead has entered your life and said it had to.

It took a while. Even longer than he admitted to me.

So, basically, for the first year of our relationship I had to share him with a memory that he couldn’t get past. But see – here’s the thing about those “memories” in a small town: THEY DON’T GO AWAY.

Oh no, those memories are everywhere. You run into Miss Memory at Walmart, at the bank, at get-togethers. And, the thing that used to sting the worst? We’d run into her at his music gigs.

Yep. There I’d sit falling even harder in love with my music man, all the while knowing that the woman who still had a piece of his heart was sitting there watching him too. And boy did I HATE that. Sure, she was innocent in this whole thing – what did she ever do to me? (Besides existing. And being gorgeous. Grrrrrrr.) But why did she have to be there? I didn’t want her there.

But, ha. Try not wanting to run into someone in a small town. As my bonus dad used to say to me growing up, “You can want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up fastest.” In other words, want all you want – it’s not going to happen. (Okay, actually, I’m not sure at all what that particular saying means. But when I picture a handful of shit, it kinda makes me not want to hold out my hand at all, you know? Oh, okay. So maybe that is the point…)

Anyway.

Back to the song.

I specifically remember the first time I heard him sing it. Of course, it was a time that she was there. There my boyfriend sat singing “I’m learning to live without you now, but I miss you baby…” and my blood was boiling. I just knew he was thinking of her. (Knowing this man who is now my husband as well as I do, he was not thinking of her – at least not while singing that song. He wasn’t thinking about me either. Or any human for that matter. He was thinking, “dear God, don’t let me forget these words. Are my drums too loud? I think the sound is a little off, I need to push some buttons. Boy, I’d love another beer. Oh crap, what’s the next line? I need to mow the yard…”)

[I interrupt here for the disclaimer that “I need to push some buttons” was my own words. My husband, the sound man extraordinaire would never call them “some buttons.” But you get my drift…]

I’m sure we fought about the song later that night. We fought about a lot of things back then (all pretty much having to do with the same subject…) In fact, we even broke up once over it. (Well, once officially. We broke up a million times in our heads.)

Basically, life was pretty hard back then. I was the poor little victim of circumstance. And Richard was the poor victim of my tirades about that circumstance. There were many times that we both just thought we weren’t going to make it. And as far as I was concerned, if we didn’t make it – he’d know whose fault it was.

His.

So now that I’ve set the scene for what life used to be like for us, I’m going to switch gears here for a minute. In what will seem like a random and drastic change of subject, I want to tell you about an argument I got into recently with a friend.

[Hang in here with me – I promise there’s a method to my madness and I’ll come back to the other “Melissa is a jealous crazy woman” story in a minute.]

I was very involved and very stressed out by the last theatre performance I took part in. Not only was I an actor in the production, I was also the producer. It was my first time producing, and I had no idea what I was doing. On the night before opening night, things were still not ready – and I pretty much went off. Coming from my place as the producer, but also from my place as an actor and a perfectionist, I threw a fit over things not being ready as they should be. What started as a quiet, yet firm, talk with the director, turned into a frustrated yell fest with anyone who would listen. And one such person who not only listened, but participated, was someone who was a friend of mine. We both let out our frustrations by raising our voices. At one point, she started talking about something that was happening with her personal life and I retorted with, “I don’t care!”

Now, of course, I didn’t mean I don’t care at all. Or that I won’t care ever. What I meant was that I didn’t care at that moment because that’s not what was being discussed. But…as it goes sometimes…what I ‘meant’ doesn’t seem to matter. What I said did.

Cue the “breakup.”

I got deleted on Facebook. I got a gift to her returned to me. Etc.

Someone close to us told me that I hurt her deeply and this was the final straw for her with being involved in our theatre.

*sigh*

Okay. Here’s something that has always infuriated me…people playing the ‘victim.’ I mean, come on, people. If you have any interactions with people ever in your life – you’re going to get disappointed. You’re going to get hurt and you’re going to get mad. We’re all humans – we suck. But to let something someone else does affect you in such a deep way? To make you shut them out – to turn your back on your passions? To give them that much power?

How ridiculous!

Right??

Oh.

Wait a minute…

So. Back to the song.

There I sat this past weekend listening to my husband sing The Heart of the Matter. And though it has been over five years now since the first time I heard him sing it, there I was….still thinking those same old silly thoughts. (And incidentally – she was there listening too. Yes, the she of our past. Right there in the gorgeous flesh. Small town, remember? We still find ourselves in the same places at the same times, and probably always will…)

I’ve always been fascinated with the phenomenon that the things that irritate you the most about other people – tend to be things that you do yourself. Have you ever noticed that? It drives my husband nuts when people leave a room and don’t turn off the lights. And what does he do sometimes? Leaves rooms and doesn’t turn off the lights. He doesn’t even realize he does it! Really – think about it sometime. Think about something that really aggravates you that other people do, and then ask yourself honestly if you do it too. You might be surprised.

People playing the victim and making too much out of something has always infuriated me. Using some small thing as leverage to paint yourself in a victim light so that others see you as the “good guy” and the other one as the “bad guy” – when you know that’s not the case – drives me up a nut tree.

And yet…

What have I been doing? Exactly the same thing.

As all of this went through my head sitting there at that restaurant this past weekend, I had a brilliant discovery. I don’t want to be the victim anymore. Everyone in our situation has moved on. They moved on a long time ago. The only one still stuck in the past is myself.

The only person making me the victim…is me.

So, therefore, who would be the only person who could remove that victim cloak? You guessed it. Also me.

The next time you find yourself the ‘victim’ of a situation, let this blog cross your mind. Ask yourself who really has the power to keep you there.

I’m betting it’s not who you think.

***

“What are all these voices outside love’s open door
Make us throw off our contentment and beg for something more?….
I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak, and my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it’s about forgiveness, forgiveness…”