Friendship. I'm the least personal person I know and rarely share personal anecdotes in conversation. Yet every time I get around to writing a solo feature, I seem to be in a personal mood and today's no different. Of those past pieces, "Smoke-free (Dona)" was the most popular and continues to bring in e-mails. (Yes, I'm still smoke-free.) Maybe this one will help a person or two if only in they recognize what I'm going through.
Which is? Frustration mainly.
I have many wonderful friends and am very lucky for that. But in eighth grade I met one of my best friends, Donna. We were Donna & Dona all through high school. We maintained our friendship despite going to different colleges. And then?
Well I have no idea. Jim and I are married now -- as many of you know. Donna was supposed to be a bride's maid. Actually, she was almost the maid of honor but I thought about how she never calls and the only time we speak is when I call her and so I quickly asked Ava who was kind enough to say yes. But Donna was supposed to be a bride's maid. Did agree to it. Said she was thrilled to be that. Wasn't a case of not having money to fly in (Elaine's gift to Jim and I was flying in members of our wedding party, thank you, Elaine). C.I. covered the cost of the wedding including bride's maids outfits so it wasn't a case of not being able to afford the outfit.
And, she was a go. She was coming. And when she still hadn't arrived by the day of the rehearsal dinner, I called and, oh, yeah, she was coming.
Day of the wedding, she still hadn't arrived and when I called that morning, I went straight to voice mail repeatedly.
I had a cousin who was more than happy to stand in as a bride's maid at the last minute. Jim and I went off on our two-week honeymoon and we had a great time but I'd be lying if I pretended that several times during the honeymoon I wasn't wondering exactly why Donna had behaved the way she did?
We last saw each other face to face in 2008 but, again, we spoke on the phone at least twice a month and usually more than that.
So when we returned from our honeymoon, I asked everyone why someone would do that? She hadn't called or e-mailed or texted or gotten in contact in any way or form. The nicest explanation was that sometimes, when people get married, things change. Maybe, several suggested, Donna was worried or nervous about that?
Okay, fair enough. And I was married and had a wonderful wedding so I was more than okay with being the one who reached out. So I called her and we spoke. And I waited for her to bring up the wedding in a "I'm sorry I couldn't make it" kind of way or, as more time went by, even in a "How was the wedding?" type of question.
She never did so I finally did.
I told her I was a little surprised and little hurt that she hadn't shown up and she had a million excuses and I have no idea why she wasn't there but none of her excuses made sense. So I went with what my cousin had told me, "Maybe she's jealous that you got married first." Going with that, I just put the whole thing out of my mind.
Two weeks later, she called me to ask if I would be her reference for a job? I said sure and she e-mailed me a lengthy narrative which I stuck to.
She then called me to find out if I'd been called by the would-be-employer?
No.
I had not been called.
A day later, I was called and, after giving the performance Donna asked me to, I called Donna to tell her. She was thrilled that I had stuck to her story.
I thought we were getting back on track for our friendship.
But a variety of things -- too many to list -- have convinced me otherwise.
The easiest and simplest point is the one Jim makes: If she wants something from you, she can call.
And that is true.
That's the only time she's the one to pick up the phone. She's never calling to say hello. She's never calling to say she saw something online, on TV, at the store, that reminded her of us. She's never calling for any reason at all except she needs me to be her reference for a job or she needs to vent about a guy she's seeing.
I don't think I'm a high demand friend. I don't ask that you e-mail me constantly or text me every minute or call me daily. But one thing I do ask is that if you say you're going to do something, you do it.
I'm also mature enough to understand that things come up. So if you fail at something you tell me you're going to do, if you fail and forget to even let me know that you failed -- that you know you failed -- I'll still give you one more chance. But after that one more chance?
I don't have time for it. I can't be there for you, if you refuse to be there for me.
I'm sorry that's the way I am.
And Donna is someone I expected to be friends with my entire life. I'm not even thirty yet but so many have fallen by the wayside. She was the touchstone -- the rock.
She was the person whose voice on the phone could bring up a million shared memories, the person whose voice on the phone could make the worst day really not seem so bad. We didn't even have to talk about why something had shaped up to be the worst day because we'd shared so many worst days before that just hearing her voice put that into perspective.
In my little story here, she doesn't come out very well. I'm sorry about that but this is my story. I will point out that she's very funny and very smart. And that if she takes the time to be your friend, you're a lucky person.
But, without going into too much detail, right around Christmas a relative passed away. She called the day of the funeral needing to talk about her boyfriend. I explained to her that I was out the door to go to a family funeral. She said, "I'll call you next Saturday." That was January 1st. And I was really looking forward to that call, valuing her even more due to the recent death. And when she didn't call, okay. Maybe something's up.
I waited and waited and then finally texted her at 8:00 pm my time (ten p.m. her time). Nothing back from her. Three days later, she texted me that she was sick Saturday and that's why she didn't call but this Saturday she would call.
That was yesterday. By six p.m. when she hadn't called, I texted her. I received no reply.
It may seem silly of me or petty of me. But whenever I need her, I can't count on her. I only here from her if she needs something.
I'm not someone to prune my list of friends but I'm just not up to being hurt anymore. I don't need the drama and I don't need Donna repeatedly making clear through her actions just how unimportant my friendship is.