We used to be…

  • friends
  • confidants
  • partners

But all good things come to an end, no?

One day I woke up to find that I’d been cut out of your life. Every method I had to reach you no longer worked. I was given no explanation. I had not been given a farewell. I had been given nothing but a cold, icy shoulder and a huge dose of sobering silence.

I was extremely vulnerable at the time. You were my rock. My compass. You were the one person I knew I could talk to. You were the one person I could confide in. The one person to whom I could tell anything. But suddenly, you ripped it all away. Like I was blindsided by a tractor trailer that had run a red light.

I was left with nothing but a mind full of questions and a scar on my heart. Where did you go? What did I do? Why?

I didn’t get answers to any of those questions. What I did get, however, was even worse. Other folks with whom I was friends cut ties with me. That was tough, but what made it almost unbearable was the reason. Those individuals cut ties with me based on things you told them. To this day I have no clue what you told them. I was simply told I was awful and needed to seek professional help. That was the deepest cut. It was one thing for you to cut me out like a cancerous skin cell. It was quite another for that infection to spread to others I trusted and counted on.

Throughout our friendship I fended off your advances. You were constantly asking me if I thought you were pretty. You perpetually sought validation of your attractiveness. These questions always, always made me uncomfortable, but I deflected the questions because I, in my vulnerable state, needed our friendship. You were attractive, I constantly reassured you, but I also made clear to you on several occasions that I was uncomfortable answering such questions from a married woman. I repeatedly refused requests to visit you. After months of being hammered with requests to visit you I conceded…on the condition that your husband was okay with it. You assured me he wouldn’t care.

Turns out you were wrong.

I don’t know what your husband thought he knew about us. I doubt he saw the messages in which I told you all we’d ever be is friends. I doubt he saw all the times I answered your requests to visit you by saying, “Only if your husband approves.” I can’t blame him for being hurt you sought emotional comfort from another man. I am upset with myself for walking right by every red flag like a blind man towards the end of a plank. I should have walked away long before I was amputated.

It’s been almost four years, but you recently messaged me and said something to the effect of, “We don’t have to be friends, but I want to explain what happened.”

Frankly, I don’t give a shit. I can understand cutting me out to save your marriage. I can understand cutting me out because of a jealous lover. What I can’t understand is people cutting ties with me because you told them I did horrible things. I still have no clue what horrible things you told them, but it was enough to get them to cut me out like a wart.

You know how an electric fence works to keep animals contained? They test the boundaries, but the pain of doing so keeps them from trying once they’ve figured out the consequences. You are my electric fence. I’m done testing that boundary and have no desire to revisit that pain.

I can’t forget that you spread malicious lies about me to people with whom I had relationships and the loss those lies incurred. I always treated you with respect. I never once entertained any thought of violating the sanctity of your marriage.

I don’t wish you ill. I hope you find, or have found, happiness and someone who treats you well. If you feel guilty about what you did, I feel like that’s what you deserve. I’m over it and past it. I suggest you find that place, too.

Be well.