One of the saddest things for me is to realize when a friendship has deteriorated so much that all of our conversations are empty. It’s one thing to acknowledge that it’s over and stop calling each other, but an entirely different ballgame when we continue the appearance that all is fine but we both know it’s not.
Recently, I’ve begun to notice that some of my oldest friends have become such acquaintances. We can talk for 50 minutes about absolutely nothing. And I don’t mean that in the nice way where you are chatting about the random fun stuff you did that day. I mean in the way where you both know the conversation is dragging. You’re not saying anything of substance and the conversation will never leave the realm of “fakeness.” I know that I should let go of this friendship regardless of its history. I know we both already have. But it’s so hard to take that last step.
To admit that sometimes things just fall apart for no reason and when people don’t stop to recognize or address it, it gets to a point where there’s no turning back. Where you wonder what held it together to begin with. Where you can’t remember the beginning, only this very sad ending.
Having these conversations physically pains me. But at the same time, I am loathe to let go for some reason. I don’t want to admit it’s over. It’s as if my admittance will make it end.
So I just sit there and play along.
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