Not All Friendships Are Worth Fighting For

J and I met my freshman year of high school, and she quickly became the person I looked up to most at that time in my life. She let me into her life: her group of friends, her love of books, her positive view on life. We never once fought for longer than a minute. She shared with me the stories she wrote and the biggest moments of her life. We knew each other better than anyone else. After a few years she met a boy at a party, and she fell for him quickly. Before long she was spending entire weekends with him and vacationing with his family. I had never met him, but he was all she could talk about. He was her one, the source of all her happiness. It wasn’t long before she no longer needed me. I was just another friend, but one who no longer understood her life. Each day we went without speaking separated us further, and the day came where I was no longer hurt by her absence, but comfortable in our distance.

I never expected to be friends with Q, but before I knew it he was one of my best. I never found him without a smile and a laugh. He was there for me when a boy made me cry during a homecoming basketball game. I was there for him while he acquired feelings for my friend that she didn’t return. We were united at our lowest lows, but we never let it bring each other down. Our promise was to stick together no matter what the obstacle. Maybe that’s why it was so hard the day S came into his life. She pulled him away from me, and before I knew it the person I knew was lost. I watched in quiet anguish as he placed her on a pedestal and she pushed him to the ground, neither in the place where they belonged. Her jealous words broke our promise, and we never spoke again.

A was my longest, most unusual friend. No one ever understood how we had lasted so long, but she and I had always stuck by each other, no matter the fight or the distance. We were somewhat like-minded, but also very different. We shared secrets, hairstyles, and even some boyfriends. When we were together, we couldn’t be anyone but ourselves. We never ceased to support each other’s dreams no matter how wild or foolish. When we separated for college, I realized our similarities wouldn’t last long outside of our hometown. She wanted to leave her old self behind in search for a more glamorous persona. She found a new group of friends and a new life; one I eventually decided I could not be a part of.

Although losing a close friend is always difficult, letting go was never a tough decision for me. I have lived my life by the notion that friendships must be mutually beneficial, and if the balance tips too far to one side, it is no longer gratifying. I’ve been told by many that I’ve given up on friendships too easily, that I’m supposed to work to keep the friendship together, even when things get hard. This may be true, actually, this is definitely true, but I have found there is a difference between fighting and letting them beat you. If they are determined in their conviction, you will not change their mind. So when the war is near its end and the loss is inevitable, I think it might be better to walk away than be wounded by the final shots.