Real friendship is so hard to find, especially in our early 30s and beyond. Like there are days when I do genuinely feel difficult to get along with (despite the growing understanding and development of my personality and ways to best communicate intentionally with others). I also talk to at least one or two women per week who experience the same challenges as an Atlanta transplant, and as a woman generally speaking. I’ve been through phases and groups of friendships that ended bitterly, or just faded out, or from which I was literally ghosted (yes, women breadcrumb and ghost each other, too!). And I’ve seen it in other cities where I’ve lived. Phoenix, Los Angeles, DC suburbs… there are friendships for seasons, and I supposed that was just the circle of life.

But then there was you.

In a season where I hadn’t felt successful in the aspects of my life that give me the most value like my career and romantic relationships, you exposed me to a new friendship-ending phenomenon. In one or two punctuated group text messages, you took away my power to feel hurt.

You took away the safety of being comfortable enough to let someone know when the world feels like it’s closing in on me.

I even apologized when you suggested that my expression of disappointment for not being invited was passive-aggressive.

A shrewd mentor/boss once advised me: “It’s okay to say you’re sorry, even if you aren’t wrong.” And it has given me power in the face of burgeoning interpersonal conflict. Saying sorry gives back evaporated strength, and the courage to try the interaction again. It silences bitterness and pushes the reset button on resentment.

And you never responded. You never took the time to say no one meant to leave me out, or you were sorry I felt that way. One of our other friends had to do that. You did, however, remind me that we’re ALL going through something, and that you, in particular, were too, so you just “genuinely wished me a good day.” You minimized the pain I felt by taking away my right to live in that moment, which hurt even more. Ironic, maybe.

I’ve never lost a friend this way, but I won’t allow myself to walk on eggshells among the people I’m supposed to be able to trust with my deepest feelings. Especially on days when I could really use a friend.

This isn’t what friends are for.