Another one bites the dust.
You might remember my post I Don’t Want to Be Your Friend — which was about how my closet girlfriend didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Well, history has repeated itself.
Since the lost of TC I have found myself part of a cluster of girls that hangout every weekend. I once thought that Sex and The City, Girls, Girlfriends, Golden Girls, Designing Women, and all shows in which four women are ALL friends was a farce on real life friendships. I mean, come on! Do you have three female best friends that meet up for coffee everyday to discuss shoes, work, and blowjobs?
But here I was proving myself wrong. I was Samantha. Blanche Devereaux. Even Turtle from Entourage when our female characters didn’t seem to quite fit. I was whoever we decided I was as we typecast each other into the leader, the brains, the comic relief, and the one with loose morals. We were living in a sit-com and playing the roles as they were given to us. And I had never been happier to be labeled the slut.
Contrary to TC, my new but now former best friend, Vince, was amazingly similar to me. A fellow Scorpio that enjoys partying, attention, and is fascinated by the dark-side of life. She is exactly where I was when I was her age; trying to establish a foothold in the community, determining where her career is headed, and in a painfully unhealthy relationship.
For the first time I knew a female that didn’t act like other females I knew. Most women say, “What are you doing tonight?” And then the stale back and forth of “I don’t know. What do you want to do?” drones on and on until someone establishes a plan by leeching onto somebody else’s.
Vince was different. Vince had plans. She was our leader and we would follow her like Lemmings over the cliff because at the bottom of the cavern was the party.
She was more than pleased to have an entourage for the first time in her life. But like all leaders, power can make even the best of people unstable. And a Scorpio woman with power is like Hitler on his period. Soon E, Drama, and I felt like we were less than characters in her show — we were becoming peons. She didn’t seem to exert the same effort we did into the friendship. She often became drunk and destroyed glasses, windows, and the relationship around her. It was the syndication of a bad episode and we all longed for the pilot that had made us tune in and fall in love.
Timing and seeing consequences before they pass have never been my strong suit. In my intoxicated state I could not foresee the aftermath of calling our drunk and passionate leader ‘lazy‘ at 3 am.
I started it. She ended it.
She walked out that night and out of our lives. A week has passed and Vince has disappeared from every connection I had to her. No Facebook, no friends, no sight or sound from our once beloved mistress of Hollywood.
She didn’t make a French exit. She told us how she felt. She did exactly what I wanted women to do when choose to cease a friendship.
And yet I still feel conflicted. I go through friends like tissues but as I feel the Kleenex box become lighter and the paper easier to remove from its casement, I know it’s only a matter of time before I pull the last one — before I am searching through the garbage for a wad I haven’t used up.
I’ve decided it’s me. I am the one that cannot keep a best friend, a girl friend, or even a friend for that matter. Whether they are exactly like me or my polar opposite, eventually it comes down to an impatience on one side for the other. I am uncompromising in my desire for fun and fairness in my friendships. Call me stubborn but I like to be treated as I treat others — with honesty, respect, and love.
Or maybe I’m just a delusional girl that doesn’t see the big picture because she’s too busy scrutinizing the brush strokes.
Dedicated to all my former best friends. Leah, Erin, Ciara, Katie, Melissa, Amanda, Melissa (again), Kellee, and Christiana.