Let’s Not Be Friends

 

 

By Jillian Owens

 

 

When we were kids, most of our friendships were formed due to geography, rather than any actual common interests. You were friends with your classmates and the kids who lived within walking distance of you because otherwise you’d have no one to hang out with. Even if you didn’t really like your neighbor that much, you’d still hang out with them after school because there just weren’t any better options.

One of the best things about being a grownup (other than being able to eat ice cream whenever you want) is you can cultivate your group of friends as carefully as you like. You can drive and meet people you actually like after work and on weekends. It’s actually pretty amazing. There are people you won’t care to be close to, and that’s okay! Now that we’re adults there’s plenty of other human beings for our fellow fully-mobile car-having (or Uber-using) adults to find, engage with, and befriend. Everybody can’t get along with everybody, but that’s okay!

 

You gotta have friends!

 

That’s how it should be anyways, right? Unfortunately, I’ve noticed a growing trend in the 30-something set of which I am a member. There are people out there who simply refuse to accept the idea that you just don’t want to be their pal.

The other week, I received a letter at home. It was from a former coworker of a friend of mine. This in and of itself is weird. The content of said missive was even weirder. I opened the envelope to discover 6 pages (single spaced) of vitriol directed at my friend. Mr. Creepster was upset that Mr. Normal told him he didn’t want to hang out with him two years ago. This wasn’t a love affair. It was a platonic breakup that occurred after Mr. Creepster began to engage in increasingly stalkerish behavior towards an after-work-cocktails-but-nothing-more acquaintance.

 

Don’t wanna. Not gonna.

 

The letter was addressed to 7 people, some of which had never even met this guy. I had interacted with him exactly two times, and for perhaps all of two minutes in total. Yet, he had found my home address, and knew I had just bought a new car. He mentioned that another friend has “a beautiful daughter”, and that another friend’s yard (which she had just landscaped) looked really nice.

The angry rant was laced with hashtags. #truth, #allbondscanbebroken, #puppetmaster, #neverforget, #selfish, and (my personal favorite) #lettergate all made an appearance. This guy had 25 hashtags, and #mentallystable wasn’t one.

That evening, my fellow lettergaters and I met for drinks. While I was in mid-conversation I felt a harsh * TAPTAPTAP * on my shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn’t Mr. Creepster.

Unfortunately it was an ex.

“I just thought one of us needed to say something,” he slurred.

“Um…How lovely?” I said, and returned to my conversation.

“Is that it?”

“I think so,” I replied, sounding oddly perky in this verbally stunted conversation. I added a curt nod and a smile that didn’t come close to reaching my eyes for emphasis.

“That tells me everything I need to know,”

….aaaaaaaand cue the angry drunken storm-off.

It turns out that he had been following a friend of mine around that evening….asking why he and I couldn’t just “be cool”.

Our brief relationship wasn’t pleasant. We had nothing in common and ended up not liking each other very much. I thought he was mean. I certainly didn’t wish neck cancer on the guy, but I certainly didn’t want to hang out with someone I didn’t like either.

 

Hello friend! Why do you try to escape my love?

 

How many times have you been followed around at a party by someone you didn’t like, but just couldn’t shake. It always starts with the seemingly innocent message of “I just want to be friends”, but it’s sometimes something more sinister. They could just as easily say, “I want to be friends and it doesn’t matter to me that you don’t want that. What I want is more important.” We’re all grownups here. We can decide who we occupy our time with.

I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone, but why do I have to be on any terms at all unless I choose to? Can’t a person just not like another person without wishing them malice? Can’t we be cool with not being cool?

Can’t we all just not get along?

 

 

Jillian Owens is a writer, designer, and eco-fashion revolutionary. A Columbia SC transplant, she graduated from the University of South Carolina with a BFA in Theatre and English. When she’s not gallivanting about, she’s busy refashioning ugly thrift store duds into fashionable frocks at ReFashionista.net or creating compelling content for the clients of Riggs Partners, where she works as a digital marketing specialist. She also reviews local theater productions for Jasper Magazine and Onstage Columbia, and is an occasional contributor for The Free Times. Any comments, questions, or crude remarks can be directed to [email protected].

 

 

 

 

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