Standing Up and Moving On

A story of a friendship ending.

30 November 2017

Dear Sir, 

It was with a heavy heart that I said goodbye to you a year ago. Sometimes friendships have to end. Friends can become enemies when that finest of lines, a line so fine that most eyes casually glance over it without a second thought, is crossed. Those individuals who succeed at life have mastered the art of balancing the good and the bad, the positive and the negative, and the weak and the strong. Their instincts allow them to maneuver that fine line of life as deftly and gracefully as a master trapeze artist maneuvers a high-wire. 

Beneath my great reluctance and sadness was the slightest trace of optimism and anticipation. I no longer had to worry if my crutch could support my weight. I can never forget the relief and gratitude I felt the many times that you held me upright. When nothing else could or would support me, you, a loyal friend always, gracefully bore my weight without comment or complaint. Together, we limped along to face many crises, both real and imagined, throughout the past decade. 

Worse than any crises we confronted was the boredom. Boredom was the blunt instrument which slowly beat my spirit to death. How can anyone be bored in this world? The answer to that question is simple: too many choices. Each day I was overwhelmed with more and more choices; every waking moment revolved around some decision. I used to enjoy everything, but I slowly lost the joy of being. Curiosity and invigoration were replaced by ignorance and apathy; but, never once did you let me fall to the floor. 

On that crisp autumn day one year ago, I happily gave thanks to you, and reluctantly bid you farewell. To this very day, I still miss watching you cascade over the ice cubes and flow serenely, yet efficiently, to the bottom of my well-tipped glass. I have to support my own weight now. Trust me, it will be better for both of us. 

Yours truly,

An Old Friend, A Future Stranger