When Friends Stop Being Friends, What Are They? in My Fucking Feelings

Suddenly I realize why I have been so distant with friends. Those close friends that have been around forever. We will be catching up and getting comfortable with each other when suddenly there’s a religious comment or question and then they just look at each other. That silent look of annoyance that cuts me off.

Suddenly, they are no longer listening. They are just judging and deciding I’m ridiculous. They are pitying me. As if someone ruined me and they are upset because I’m not the “badass” I used to be. They hate my beliefs. They do not care to hear about the experiences that have been so important to me. They do not care to listen.

I can’t talk to them about this. I can’t talk to them about much of anything anymore. We were so close. And yet, I feel as if they don’t care. Silently they are annoyed and it shines on their faces. They pretend as best they can that it doesn’t bother them. But it does, it bothers them a lot.

This is a big part of my life now. I want to be excited about it and share it. But they’ve shut me down. Why bother talking when nobody is listening. Suddenly the friends I thought would be there forever, and I’d never lose have emotionally blocked me out. These people were like family. When I said that today, they looked sad at me, as if perhaps by now I should have made a new family or learned to accept the one I was born with.

I still love them, but suddenly I feel so alone. Suddenly I feel as if I’ve lost my family. Maybe I should call my church friend. She is almost like another mom for me. I just wish… I had friends who could get as excited about this stuff as I do. Friends that could hold a conversation both intelligent and religious. I miss the treasured days of 8th grade, sitting in front of J. I could turn around and talk to him about God, and he was happy to share the conversation. He had real opinions on the subject. He had a real relationship with God. He was such a good friend for me to have. I wish I had seen that then. Now it feels much too late.

I wish it were not too late.

I wish I could turn around right now in my seat and talk to him about God.

I wish I could pick up my phone and text him.
We could talk all night about things that actually matter.

But I can’t do that.

Because he isn’t forced to sit still in a room with me all day. This isn’t middle school.

And he would probably be upset if he knew I had his number.

So I can’t use it.

It sits there in my phone just in case one day it shows up on my caller ID.

I hate phone calls, but I’d answer that one, and try not to cry as my heart skips every other beat.

I wonder if that day will ever come? Maybe I just hope for too much. Somedays, he’s all I can think about. I waste whole days away wishing he were here, and thinking of all the things we’d do. Mostly, missing how he didn’t shut me out when I actually had the courage to speak.