You knew all about him before you met him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I told you about all the times he was terrible to me and made me cry when we first met because he was a dumb 17-year-old boy. I told you about how the circumstances completely changed and our relationship grew into a strong, healthy friendship. I told you all about him when I started falling for him. How he would take me out with his friends and bring me around to all of his family functions. I told you that I thought I loved him.
She was the only person I talked about. It was almost concerning, really. I told you how she and I would spend every waking moment together. I told you about all of the gossip we would share, all the coffee dates we would go on, and all of the events we would go to together. You knew that she was single and I was the best friend she had at school. You knew I didn’t have many good friends. She was my other half.
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You knew that I wasn’t completely ready to date him. I had just gotten out of a serious relationship and knew I wasn’t ready to jump into another. I talked to you about how I was afraid to break up with him because I was worried about how intermingled our lives were. I worried about the security of my job. I was afraid of losing him as the friend I once had. I was afraid that all of our lives would change if we broke up. You called it a red flag. You knew, though, that I loved him.
You knew she loved being the center of attention. I told you how she would dramatize things in front of others to make herself look more interesting. I told you how she would be in my company alone and be completely real; the best friend a girl could ask for. You knew that she would do anything for me if I still had something to offer her, and I risked losing her if I could not return certain favors. You knew, though, that she was my best friend.
You two finally met.
You always came in like a whirlwind and spent every minute talking about yourself or boys, basically neglecting the fact that he was there.
You sat silently and never tried to contribute to the conversation, even when I tried to interject and change the subject to a mutual one.
I called you out on not making him feel welcome. You said he didn’t make an effort with you and just sat around on his phone or watching TV.
I called you out on sitting silently and not engaging in anything but Sports Center. You said she wouldn’t shut up long enough for you to say anything.
“If he really cared about you, he would try to be friendly with your friends.”
“If she cared about you, she would try to make your boyfriend feel comfortable.”
Here’s the fact: if either of you cared about me, you would be trying to make it work for my sake.
You both know that I wanted nothing more than the two most important people in my life to get along. You know that nothing hurts me more than to have you two sit in the same room and feel like I am in two different worlds whenever I speak to one of you in conversation.
Yet the two of you would avoid each other like the plague. My heart breaks, and here I am, left to pick up my own pieces and put it back together.
I love you both, but if either of you cared about me, you would make it work.
I totally understand that don’t have much in common; in fact, I can’t name more than one thing you two have in common. But you both have me.
Ask me about my day. Pretend that you care about each other’s. You know more about each other than most people because I talk about you both more than anything. Find something to talk about. Engage one another. Don’t just shut me down when I try to engage you both.
I’ve found that now I can’t vent to either of you if something is wrong. But worse? I feel uncomfortable even bringing up the good things because I knew those comments will be received with a negative energy.
Never in my life do I want to be faced with making a decision between two of the people that I care about most. But right now, I’m prepared to choose myself, and leave the pettiness the two of you have behind.
Is she the best friend I could ever have? Eh. Is he the dream guy for me? Maybe not.
I don’t always agree with the things that either of you are involved in, but I would do anything to make sure that you are happy.
You both know that.
The selfish fact is, neither of you can get over your pride enough to support me and go out of your way to make me happy.
So please, for me, would you mind at least pretending to get along?
