It always surprises me how surprised people are when I notice something that has changed about them or a habit that they have. Isn’t it obvious that as much as they look at me, even I look at them? In any case, we see what’s going on, clearly.
Since I’m generally preoccupied with friendships and the like, it’s impossible for me not to notice and be at least mildly interested in the ways that people become closer friends. It’s even more interesting when you see that one of your friends is attracted to another. Right now, I’m in a position of watching many friends that I’ve known since they were freshmen prepare to achieve something. I watched the bonds of friendship strengthen between them in a way that I was never quite able to do myself when I was in college, having a very unconventional lifestyle at the time as well as being keenly aware that although I got along with everyone fine, nobody cared about what happened to me one way or another.
[Huh. Now that I’ve thought about this for a few moments, it’s probably the case that I’m more keenly aware of friendship dynamics of this sort because I never really experienced them in the ways that we think of as conventional. Proving yet again that Friends Fascination = Psychological Damage.]
In addition to seeing the strengthening of these social networks, I’ve also been witness to many breaks in friendship. I’ve seen some pretty nasty friend break-ups at the University level (and have participated in my fair share as well in my time). College (and school) is a dramatic endeavor. It’s very easy to get sucked into it, believe me.
What’s been preoccupying my mindspace this year though, hasn’t been the seemingly unbreakable friendships or the tragically dramatic squabbles I see, but rather a more nuanced and generally unspoken sort of shift that is possibly more common than the other two categories combined, a thing that I think of as Friendship Death, which for me includes the friendships that you simply “outgrow” or abandon at the end of a strongly delineated time frame, such as a semester or more meaningfully, perhaps, the end of one’s studies.
It’s common—almost expected—that many people will become friendly with at least some other people(s) who share the same interests and schedules. Sometimes, you’ll become bffs, sometimes just good, but casual friends. Sometimes classrooms full of strangers become a tight gang over the course of the life, such that individuals will really put themselves out there and sacrifice for others. What’s less obvious is when you stop being friends with those sorts of people. Sometimes it’s apparent to people. That when you say, “We’ll definitely keep in touch,” you mean no such thing. It’s almost as if you are already trying to get as far away from that person and what they represent as possible. No fight, no beef even. You are simply just not interested in maintaining. Sometimes you just let the relationship go. Relationships require work after all and when your shared interests diminish, it’s reasonable that your level of investment will diminish as well. This, however, is one of those things that are much easier to recognize in retrospect.
A friend of mine noted, not too long ago, that it can be quite painful to watch the natural death of a relationship. I couldn’t agree more, provided that you actually notice that that’s what you are watching. For me personally, I’ve found that this is something that is more likely to be noticed in the case of an old friend, one that has at some point held a place of honor. “Stuck with you through the tough times” maybe even. This sort of relationship death can really mess with your head because it’s completely reasonable to question the basis of the relationship in the first place and to go over your worldview: What have I done wrong? Were we always this different? Did they change? Did I? When did that happen, anyway? And worst of all: Was I just trying so hard to have you as a friend that I didn’t look for reciprocity? Was it always the case that you didn’t really like me? (And if you are really hardcore emo: Does anybody like me?)
I find that one of the more common explanations for why these friendships die, “I’ve outgrown them” to be simultaneously problematic and accurate. The idea that someone has grown in a literal sense tends to be one of the unobjectionable things that people who are literally grown say. Sure, I think that sometimes a person does get smarter to what’s happening to them or around them. Maybe they became a bit more mature. But usually to outgrow someone or something just means that you are out of step with that person or place or whatever. What if you are the one that is changing your frame and everyone else maintains status quo? Is that really growth? Or have you just made yourself marked, a chosen outcast, so to speak? Is the grower always the one who is moving in the right direction? I’m not so sure. However, what I do know is that either way, this gives evidence for another reality in friendship that is not generally commented upon, which is that Context Rules. I think that for many reasons, people would like to think that their personal friendships go beyond the limitations of place. However, in my general observation, it’s more the case that relationships end because of institutional attachment.
I can go on and on about Friendship Death, but I think that I’ll leave that all for a different post. Instead, I’ll end by addressing my abstract questions to myself (in case you’re wondering, I’ve asked them all to myself many times over in my life): The answers might be interesting, but the answers are debatable. When friendships start to slip away, especially at the later stages of life, it’s good to think about yourself introspectively. But as someone who has lost many friends for many reasons (and has also maintained many friends for many other better reasons), I’ve learned that to indulge too much in such thoughts isn’t really the best course of action for the thinking. We try too hard to maintain a status quo that is ready to shift. When I do this myself, it feels like pushing against a mountain. What’s easier is to let go gently and let it drift away without letting your soul drift along with it. It’s okay. Things change. People change. Even when we don’t want to. It’s called “growing up”. Congratulations, folks.
Since I’m generally preoccupied with friendships and the like, it’s impossible for me not to notice and be at least mildly interested in the ways that people become closer friends. It’s even more interesting when you see that one of your friends is attracted to another. Right now, I’m in a position of watching many friends that I’ve known since they were freshmen prepare to achieve something. I watched the bonds of friendship strengthen between them in a way that I was never quite able to do myself when I was in college, having a very unconventional lifestyle at the time as well as being keenly aware that although I got along with everyone fine, nobody cared about what happened to me one way or another.
[Huh. Now that I’ve thought about this for a few moments, it’s probably the case that I’m more keenly aware of friendship dynamics of this sort because I never really experienced them in the ways that we think of as conventional. Proving yet again that Friends Fascination = Psychological Damage.]
In addition to seeing the strengthening of these social networks, I’ve also been witness to many breaks in friendship. I’ve seen some pretty nasty friend break-ups at the University level (and have participated in my fair share as well in my time). College (and school) is a dramatic endeavor. It’s very easy to get sucked into it, believe me.
What’s been preoccupying my mindspace this year though, hasn’t been the seemingly unbreakable friendships or the tragically dramatic squabbles I see, but rather a more nuanced and generally unspoken sort of shift that is possibly more common than the other two categories combined, a thing that I think of as Friendship Death, which for me includes the friendships that you simply “outgrow” or abandon at the end of a strongly delineated time frame, such as a semester or more meaningfully, perhaps, the end of one’s studies.
It’s common—almost expected—that many people will become friendly with at least some other people(s) who share the same interests and schedules. Sometimes, you’ll become bffs, sometimes just good, but casual friends. Sometimes classrooms full of strangers become a tight gang over the course of the life, such that individuals will really put themselves out there and sacrifice for others. What’s less obvious is when you stop being friends with those sorts of people. Sometimes it’s apparent to people. That when you say, “We’ll definitely keep in touch,” you mean no such thing. It’s almost as if you are already trying to get as far away from that person and what they represent as possible. No fight, no beef even. You are simply just not interested in maintaining. Sometimes you just let the relationship go. Relationships require work after all and when your shared interests diminish, it’s reasonable that your level of investment will diminish as well. This, however, is one of those things that are much easier to recognize in retrospect.
A friend of mine noted, not too long ago, that it can be quite painful to watch the natural death of a relationship. I couldn’t agree more, provided that you actually notice that that’s what you are watching. For me personally, I’ve found that this is something that is more likely to be noticed in the case of an old friend, one that has at some point held a place of honor. “Stuck with you through the tough times” maybe even. This sort of relationship death can really mess with your head because it’s completely reasonable to question the basis of the relationship in the first place and to go over your worldview: What have I done wrong? Were we always this different? Did they change? Did I? When did that happen, anyway? And worst of all: Was I just trying so hard to have you as a friend that I didn’t look for reciprocity? Was it always the case that you didn’t really like me? (And if you are really hardcore emo: Does anybody like me?)
I find that one of the more common explanations for why these friendships die, “I’ve outgrown them” to be simultaneously problematic and accurate. The idea that someone has grown in a literal sense tends to be one of the unobjectionable things that people who are literally grown say. Sure, I think that sometimes a person does get smarter to what’s happening to them or around them. Maybe they became a bit more mature. But usually to outgrow someone or something just means that you are out of step with that person or place or whatever. What if you are the one that is changing your frame and everyone else maintains status quo? Is that really growth? Or have you just made yourself marked, a chosen outcast, so to speak? Is the grower always the one who is moving in the right direction? I’m not so sure. However, what I do know is that either way, this gives evidence for another reality in friendship that is not generally commented upon, which is that Context Rules. I think that for many reasons, people would like to think that their personal friendships go beyond the limitations of place. However, in my general observation, it’s more the case that relationships end because of institutional attachment.
I can go on and on about Friendship Death, but I think that I’ll leave that all for a different post. Instead, I’ll end by addressing my abstract questions to myself (in case you’re wondering, I’ve asked them all to myself many times over in my life): The answers might be interesting, but the answers are debatable. When friendships start to slip away, especially at the later stages of life, it’s good to think about yourself introspectively. But as someone who has lost many friends for many reasons (and has also maintained many friends for many other better reasons), I’ve learned that to indulge too much in such thoughts isn’t really the best course of action for the thinking. We try too hard to maintain a status quo that is ready to shift. When I do this myself, it feels like pushing against a mountain. What’s easier is to let go gently and let it drift away without letting your soul drift along with it. It’s okay. Things change. People change. Even when we don’t want to. It’s called “growing up”. Congratulations, folks.
Welcome to the next stage on the path to reality.
