Awhile back, I wrote about how September was an awful month. I realized recently that I didn’t write about the event that really ruined September for me. It’s two months later, and it’s still bothering me so I figured I’d ask for some advice.
Throughout the majority of my life, I’d been friends with Molly. We became friends when she was 6 and I was 7. Up until our early twenties, she lived across the street from me. We went to elementary, middle, and high school together. We became especially close during the last two years of high school and we stayed that way throughout most of college. We rode in the same limo to prom, we drove to school together before she got a car, we went clubbing together for the first time, we had our lockers next to each other, etc. Circa eighth grade, we swore that we’d tell each other first when we lost our virginity and that we’d be each other’s maid of honor. I felt important hanging out with her, she had greater “status” than me. We considered ourselves, “best friends”. To this day, many of my fondest memories involve some sort of escapade with Molly.
Like most friendships, there were occasional setbacks. In the beginning of eighth grade, we didn’t speak for about a month and I hated her. The summer before our junior year of college, we had a falling out, I think it had to do with some of our non-mutual friends. I told her I didn’t like her other friends for some reason. We didn’t speak for five months this time around. I hated her then too. Both times, I believe she was the one to break the silence. I’m a grudge-holder, and I refuse to apologize if I feel that my argument is justified.
After our issues, we rekindled our friendship. We continued to confide in each other, we talked about our boy-dilemmas (mine was with Steve, even back then!), our school friends, our gripes with the world, everything. I remember one New Year’s Eve, we went to this bar that we knew served under-age drinkers. We each danced with a guy, mine sang Usher to me (U Got it Bad), her “date” ate a bunch of olives and tried to kiss her. We made fun of that night for years. But I digress…The point is, we shared all of those things that make a pair of best friends. (Which reminds me, do guys have best friends?)
The turning point came when I moved down south at 26. It was December, I was planning to return home for Christmas. She lived in the city where the local airport was located and she offered to pick me up and let me stay at her apartment. She was going to go to her parents’ house the next day, so she agreed to drive me home. It was a great arrangement.
Everything was going great. She picked me up at the airport as she said she would. We went to her place, I made fun of her parking saver (as we’d always tease each other, sarcastically), we made plans to go out to a bar, but she fell asleep. We decided we were both tired and we wouldn’t go out that night.
Later on, while she was resting, she got a phone call. The guy that she had been seeing for a few months, had come home from Seattle. I’m sure you know where this is going. So she was too “tired” to hang out with me, but shockingly, she was full of energy when Matt called her. This led to my dislike of my best friend. The next day, as she drove me home, I was steaming and I realized all of her negative traits I’d overlooked for all those years. It now bothered me that she was selfish and a snob. I’m not even sure if I thought that earlier, but I definitely felt that way now. Our friendship became strained, we didn’t talk on the phone much anymore, and in September of the following year, we corresponded via email for the last time. I saw her about one year and a half later, but that was only because our mutual friend, Amy, wanted to see us both at Christmastime.
Now, after this long-winded post, I come to the point…This past September, on a Friday when I was getting ready for work, there were about twenty cars parked on my street. They were all at Molly’s house, as I could see that there were a lot of cars parked in her driveway as well. I didn’t think much of it. The next day, a rare Saturday off from work, I noticed that there was still a great deal of cars parked at her parents’ house. So I googled her name.
Imagine my surprise, when I find out that she is getting married (to that guy who lived in Seattle), on this day. I flew into a rage (I’m not exaggerating, I was literally screaming and throwing things, and slamming doors.) Yes, I admit that part of my anger stemmed from jealousy, but the majority of my anger was a result of being slighted.
Though at the time, we hadn’t been talking for about 5 years, we still had that twenty year history. We had known each other for over twenty years; at one point, we thought of each other as a best friend. I was so hurt. There were a million emotions going through me when I discovered what was happening; hatred, jealousy, stress, sadness, anger, vengeance, etc. I had no positive feelings towards her. I even wrote a letter that I had planned to send, but I never did. In the letter, I told her about how much I despised her, how hurt I felt, how she was never a real friend. I am most proud about the end of my letter, when I wrote “I am not going to wish you a long and happy life together. Instead, I wish for a short marriage ending in a long divorce which leaves you penniless.” That is how much it stung. As you can probably tell, I’m still bothered by it.
I talked to my coworkers about the events. I wanted their opinions. I was surprised to find out that they thought I was nuts for getting so upset about it. My argument is that we’ve known each other for twenty-plus years, we were super-close for years, I think she should have at least emailed or sent me a letter about an event such as this. As I mentioned earlier, we had once planned on serving as maid-of-honor to one another. My coworkers unanimously agreed that I was overreacting. What is your opinion on the issue?