At 18, I made friends with a brassy, bad-ass, bossy 17 year old girl. At first, I couldn't stand her, but as weeks passed, I began to appreciate her--as her personality was the antithesis to mine. I wasn't bad-ass, nor was I brassy, and I was only bossy at home with my brother. The two of us seemed an unlikely friendship, but she was the best friend I have ever had.
What drove us apart, honestly, was her husband. We spent a year without one another because her boyfriend (soon husband) and I detested one another. I found him controlling, mostly to make up for his lack of self-worth. I thought--and still think of him--he was a loser. A guy with a dead end restaurant job. A stoner who found God. He blustered and talked a good talk. But really, he was an asshole. I, and to his credit-limited though it is-and her husband tried to get along, tried to pretend our natural revulsion for one another didn't exist. Finally, after he moved her 45 minutes away from me, from their church, from her mother, we were sitting in my car in a parking lot, while she cried about how she didn't know who she was anymore, how he had overpowered her confidence in herself as well as her life, I began to realize how detrimental I was to her.
We tried to get together, we really did, after she moved. But her husband would call her repeatedly, asking when she was going to be home to take care of their children because he had plans. Or she would cancel because her husband made plans and couldn't change them. And I understood that I was not welcome in her life, at least from her husband's perspective. He did everything he could to make our times together limited and frustrating, and I knew I couldn't cope with him any longer. Each time I was around him, I wanted to lash out and hurt him the way I felt he was hurting his wife. Each time I kept my mouth shut, knowing my friend would pay the consequences-at least psychologically-for my transgressions.
Eventually, between a new baby, graduate school, a full time job, and my feelings about my friend's husband, I ended the friendship. I knew by removing myself from her life, her husband would back off her too. They are still together, and I'm pretty sure life is better without me in it.
However, especially now with my mom dead, I miss female friendship. It's hard for me to make friends, and obviously to keep them, and it's hard for me to trust women. Women can be cruel and competitive. Women are untrustworthy. That's what made my friendship with Shea so special; she wasn't anything of those things with me. I could trust her with my life.
I miss having someone to call and hang out with. I miss shopping with a woman; men don't always understand that it's about the experience rather than the money spent. I miss going to movies with a woman, crying and feeling better when the movie is over. I miss having lunch with another woman,complaining of our husbands and children, yet knowing how much we love them. I miss finding inappropriate cards for another woman, knowing she'll get the joke. I miss being myself with another woman. I'm always on guard with others, except my husband, and it would be nice to truly be myself with another woman without fearing she'll hate me.
As for my friend, the one for whom I mourn my loss, I know we'll never be friends again; too much has happened between us for this to happen. I wish I could find another friend, one with whom I can share my hopes, dreams, fears, and frustrations. Honestly, I miss friendship.
