Crumbling

How do you know when a friendship has crumbled? I do not speak of shocks to the system, a crisis in the relationship that is obvious and violent, but the slow fading away of it. Is there an exact moment when the direction of everything changes? Or is there no pivotal moment, just a flash of realisation that it is gone?

Could it be when I no longer care what the other party thinks of me, or the other party ceases to care what I think of him or her? Or could it be when you no longer bother to meet to talk and interact? Or when you do meet, there seems to be nothing to talk about? Perhaps it is when the forms of friendship are run through, but seem empty, without content and meaning. The conversations become painfully slow and drawn out, and voices are gradually replaced by instant messaging, where a lull of half an hour between messages is possible without seeming rude. Ah, modern technology that allows us to slowly distance our friends instead of having to deal with awkward silences.

When your friend has a great deal in common with you, it seemed at first to be the most natural thing in the world to talk about everything you share. A soulmate it seems you have found. Then you start to become bored with the conversations circling the same topics over and over. You understand the other too well, and there are no surprises or unknown depths. Common interests become tired, and prevent you from discussing anything beyond these things. It is near impossible to go into depth about anything, as something you have in common gets in the way of the new direction you steer the conversation in.

When your friend has little in common with you, it seems terribly interesting at first. Everything is fresh and new, coming from a perspective completely different from your own. There is little that cannot be discussed, as there is a need to discuss everything, since the other does not know anything. But this too can weary, for the topics in the conversation invariably fail to interest you too greatly, or they would be part of your own personality. Eventually the conversations become tiresome and wearying, the lulls grow longer, the interaction demanding of ever higher effort to maintain.

Perhaps the moment of realisation is when you see the relationship for what it is. The other party simply needed you for something, whether it be a financial, physical or emotional need, and when that need is satisfied, or no longer an issue, you are discarded, set aside. When a person stands in trouble of any sort, friends become ever more important, but by the same token, when there is no urgent need, friends lose importance. Taken to the extreme, perhaps some freindships are predicated entirely on a necessity to depend on someone for something, and that person is no longer needed to provide that thing, then there is no need for the friendship to be maintained.

I am not a selfish sort, as a rule. I am generous with my time, my energies, my affections, my spirit. I do not expect my friends to repay me in kind to an equal degree, though it would be nice, of course. I do expect them to recognise that I give of myself for a reason; affection, loyalty, friendship. All I ask is that this is reciprocated in some degree. Nothing else. I do not need an equal relationship, but some return of the sentiment is desired.

It is a sad thing when something you value crumbles. But friendship is a commodity that has no value at all unless both parties assign it value. If either ceases to do so, the other will find there is no point in clinging to it.