Time to say goodbye; why and when to leave someone behind

It’s horrible to walk when you like someone: but it is important

It is a truth universally ignored that trying to persuade someone not to be bored by you never, ever works. It doesn’t matter how loving you are to them, how beautiful your new hairstyle is, or how patient and gentle you are with their apathy towards you. I know it’s nice to imagine that on the other side of that ‘space’ is a time they realise they miss you and care about you: but really, you’ll just have drifted even more. If someone is tired of you: please, please accept it.

If he (or she!) doesn’t call, it is because he doesn’t want to. If he doesn’t find time for you, it’s because he doesn’t want to. If he doesn’t ever start a conversation, it’s because he doesn’t want to. If he avoids seeing you, it’s because he doesn’t want to. If he doesn’t reply, it’s because he doesn’t want to. If he doesn’t make an effort to understand your feelings, it’s because he doesn’t want to.

This is as true for friendships as it is for relationships and dating: someone who does not want to stay in touch, does not value that bond with you, will do nothing to maintain it. Not because they’re evil, but because doing nothing about someone you’re largely ok with is much easier than doing something and being the bad guy. Drifting is way less painful.

I’m not saying he doesn’t care about you at all because he didn’t text you back this morning: I’m saying that if you know, in your gut, that you’re starting every single conversation, he hasn’t wanted to see you in months, and you’ve been left on read for a week: it definitely is because he doesn’t like you that much anymore. Whether he was your best friend or your boyfriend.

We make excuses (self-included, very bad of me) like being busy, having too much on, and it not being a permanent change, but really all I mean is that I’m too busy for you. I have time, I just don’t have time for you. If you mattered enough, I’d be excited about seeing you. I’d be excited about hearing from you. I’d be pleased that you sent me that funny meme or wanted to talk to me about Rwandan immigration policy.

That doesn’t mean I hate you at all— if I’m honest for most people I quietly ignore or don’t prioritise I just find them a bit dull or overwhelming— but it does mean I’m hoping you stop asking. That you take a hint. That I don’t have to have a sad, hard conversation about really just wanting to be friends from a distance or maybe just seeing each other a few times a year from now on. Because no one likes doing that. It’s not fun. And even worse when it’s a relationship: breaking someone’s heart and saying no to more dates is horrible. The perfect scenario is you just quietly fade out. Unfortunately, when you aren’t prepared to accept that the other person wants that, you are going to get hurt.

I lost a friend recently- something I very rarely, if ever do, because I chose to ignore the warning signs. I didn’t want to see that she hadn’t reached out and asked if my friends and loved ones in Israel were safe on 7/10. I didn’t want to see that she hadn’t got in touch to support me or ask how I was feeling in the wake of the fear and violence across the world against people I loved and cared about. I didn’t want to see that she didn’t have any sympathy or concern as to how I felt seeing her marching with slogans like ‘Death to Israel (my friends, my family)’ and antisemitic nasheeds blaring behind her in the background. In her head, I was bad because despite the fact I want a ceasefire, loudly condemned the war on Gaza, supported protesting, and want a free Palestinian state, I was upset and angry about the antisemitism at the protests she was attending. She was defiant that it wasn’t an issue and that covering your face in balaclavas and keffiyehs and waving flags with Hamas symbolism in London wasn’t scary or offensive, I was just being hysterical. In fact, she was angry that I was offended: my feelings and hurt were irrelevant, stupid, not important in the wake of the real atrocities. She even used the ‘my Jewish friends don’t care’ on me like a far-right white Republican in the 1980s. I didn’t matter to her. My friendship didn’t matter. My distress didn’t matter. But I didn’t want to see that.

It was so much easier to pretend she was just busy. It was so much easier to say she was just passionate about saving innocent Palestinians. It was so much easier not to see the coldness, the silence, the total lack of empathy.

I’m ok not being friends with her now I’ve woken up to it: but I wish I’d seen who she really was, and how she felt about me sooner. I wish I’d listened to my friends warning me about the views she was now espousing at parties and the new people she was associating with. I wish I’d had high enough standards for myself to say I didn’t want a friend who didn’t care about how I felt or have concern about how her actions might impact me or make me feel. Who would not listen to me when I said I was offended by something or found it frightening. As my therapist says, “don’t let people who don’t care about you or your wellbeing take up any room in your heart.”

But I do wish I’d been ok with accepting who she was months ago: and not letting myself believe that the signs I knew were anything other than our friendship being well and truly over.