Why I am mad at you: An Open Letter to My Married Friends

Dear friend,

Let me just start by saying that I know you are not entirely to blame.
I am not without fault, at all, and I know the reality of the situation is that I suck just as much as you do at keeping everything afloat.
Nothing is exclusively your fault. Nothing is exclusively mine.

But I see and hear this a lot.
You’ve probably even said it to me before.
We were probably driving somewhere, catching up, making awkward small talk. And at some point, you laughed and said, “Nothing really new happens to me anymore, I have no friends now.”
Zoom in.
“I have no friends now.”
There it is.
Do you remember?

And I probably laughed and agreed. I have no friends now either.

But we’re friends, technically.
If someone asked you specifically if I was your friend, you’d probably say yes. That’s what friendship is, too. It’s not seeing each other for 6 months or more but knowing that the other person loves you still. I know you love me. I hope you know I love you.

But here’s the thing: sometimes it’s like you don’t even exist anymore.

In high school and in college, I knew everything there was to know about you. When one of us was going through a hard time, the other one was there for the late nights and random ice cream trips and talks in empty parking lots. When one of us was happy, the other one was there for the excited texts and phone calls and events. And we were there for everything in-between too. The after-class lunches and the trips to taco bell just because and the “I’m going on a walk, want to join?” types of situation. We were involved. We knew each other.

Now, it’s sometimes like we’re running on the fumes of all of that.

Months will pass without a word. Then suddenly we’re sitting a restaurant and you’re asking what’s new and I don’t have a single thing to say. Nothing is new. All of this stuff happened to me, but where do I start? Where have you been?

It’s like my mind goes into friendship survival mode.
Suddenly, the small things I used to talk to you about every day have to be thrown out. I only have 3 hours with you before there’s another 6 month break and so I can’t waste time on small stuff. So then I try to think of the semi bigger things. Have I been sad in the last 6 months? If so, why? Can I tell her about that? No. It doesn’t matter anymore. That’s not worth wasting time on. Have I been happy in the last 6 months? If so, why? Can I tell her about that? No, it’s calmed down now. No point wasting time talking about that either. Has anything funny happened lately? Sure, but she isn’t around and so if I try to tell this work story, she doesn’t know the context and I’d have to explain all of that first which would take way too much time for that small funny story and that’s ALSO not worth the time….

So instead of telling you anything, I tell you nothing. My mind has thrown out every possibility. I don’t know where to start. I don’t have enough time. Instead we’re awkward and quiet.

You exist, but not in the way you used to in my life.

You went from an ever-present being, someone who knew me inside and out, to someone I talk to once, maybe twice a year and I’m uncomfortable the entire time.

And to be honest, I’m not totally sure how this happened. Have you forgotten? Or do you remember, but it doesn’t matter anymore?

See, you found that person. The person you married, who you get to see every day and talk to as often as you want. This person has overwhelmed your life, and maybe rightfully so. You used to need a group of friends constantly around to fill a bunch of little roles in your life to make it feel rounded, but you were so lucky and found the one person who filled so many of those roles that you didn’t need that group of friends quite as much anymore.

But then there’s me. Where there was once a group of like 6 people all being friends and supporting each other and filling those roles for each other… Now there’s just me. And you don’t need me, and you’ve forgotten that I may still need you.

I’ve heard this argument happen so many times. I’ve heard my married friends complain that all of their single friends stopped inviting them to things and abandoned them as soon as they were married. I’ve heard my single friends complain that all of their married friends forgot about them and stopped coming to things once they were married. I’ve heard you say that you have no friends anymore. I have said many times that I have no friends anymore.

The truth is that both of us are right. You are right when you say I stopped inviting you to things. I absolutely did, because you stopped showing up.

You are right, it is my fault in a lot of aspects.
I am a crappy friend who has no idea how to navigate these friendships now. I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.
I hate feeling awkward, so I’m going to avoid it when I can, which means I’m probably avoiding you.
And so you probably think I’m mad at you because I’m avoiding you a little bit. Which, I sorta am.

I’m mad because you got married and things changed. I’m mad because I have so much to tell you and I can’t. I’m mad because I love you so much, and you’re not here. I’m mad because sometimes I still need those late night talks in empty parking lots, or random ice cream trips, or a person to text and cry to about my day, and you’re gone.

I’m mad because when I see you, it feels like we’re looking for each other instead of at each other. Like we know the best friend we used to have is still this person sitting in front of us, but where are they?

And I’m mad because I can’t fix it. And is anything really broken, or have we just grown up?

So there you go. A bunch of answers and a bunch of questions and no real explanation.

Love always,

Maren