Two years ago, a group text arrived from my two best friends, writing that their friendship with me was over.

I was being torn apart until one of them figured out that they’d inadvertently shared their text with me.

One of them then wrote, "…now you know."  Then silence.

I later called each of them. Neither answered.

I left a message saying that I hoped we could work through it and that I loved them.

I don’t believe in “disposable friendships” after 18 years of being through death of parents, divorce, break-ups, remarriages, career highs and lows, house buying, child rearing, and memorable moments of joy and celebration.

Neither called back. One stayed silent, the other went away for a month for work.

When that friend returned, we met in person over coffee and talked about what happened.

She admitted it sounds immature, but she was afraid that I’d abandon her due to my new romantic relationship.

I assured her that was not the case, and that surely there was a better way to show her fear than to tear me apart.

I know that I was being asked to give my patience and unconditional love as the necessary ingredients in friendship, and I did.

I know I’m not perfect, but all I can hope for is to develop and grow respectful and kind friendships.
It seems all too easy for people to walk away from each other in this day and age of disposable products.

Am I a doormat ?
Ellie, I wrote all this two years ago. Two months ago it happened again with these same two friends.

This time I was attacked through text when I asked for their understanding about my changing plans with them, with more than enough notice.

It was about my being unable to visit during a weekend,  because I had to take care of some circumstances in my life.

This had nothing to do with my romantic relationship.

Two days after the nasty text, a lengthy and cruel one arrived listing all my faults, saying I was lying, and that whoever I had made plans with must be awfully important.

None of this was true. I again went to the phone to try to make peace, but was rebuffed.
I believe that my supposed best friend likes to complain to my other friend about me, and he uses that as fuel and fire for attack on her behalf.

I understand them voicing disappointment, but not a verbal attack in which my life and heart are viscously ripped to pieces.

I stood up for myself in text this time, saying it was enough, to stop, and that he’d crossed the line.
Heartsick, I walked away from these supposed friends, as I don’t believe anymore that sharing my life with people who attack me out of the blue can be called friendship.

I’d never do what was done to me.

I want friends who are interested in building trust, without resorting to creating needless drama, to know that they’re loved.
But I do love those friends, and am happy and grateful for the memories we shared. I just wish it could’ve turned out differently.

Not A Doormat

He stopped being your friend long ago. He’d become a self-righteous spoiler, ready to cause turmoil, whenever the chance arose.

He wasn’t really her friend, either, because he fed her insecurities and turned her against you.

Memories are worth saving. These once-friends no longer are.

My son, married with young children, celebrates father's day every four years or so.

In between, there’s nothing, not even a card.

I told him last year that this on-off routine is unfair to me and other people.

My  soon-to-be step-daughter was waiting for word from me as she wanted to take me out and also make arrangements with her father.

Normally, I give “priority” to my son, so she and my fiancée are left hanging, until hearing his plans with me.

But there’s been no return email from him in ten days.

I’m going to tell him there’s no hard feelings, he's got his own family where he’s celebrated as a father. So I’m closing down the inconsistent father's day celebration for good.

Priority Cancelled

Your son’s sending you a silent message.

Ask what it’s about. Then talk it out, openly, about what’s happening between you, and why Father’s Day is an excuse for avoidance.