The Friend You Used to Be

You were once someone rare to me.

Not because you did grand things - though you did, and I don't deny that - but because you noticed me when most people didn’t. It felt that you understood me. In a world where presence is often loud but shallow, yours was quiet and real. That is what stayed with me. That is what mattered.

And it still does.

I’ve thanked you many a time. I still do. And I have meant it each time. May be you won’t understand why, but you mattered to me in ways that had nothing to do with what you could give. I of course never had much. I am not a man of means - I never was - but I have always tried to show up in the only way I knew how: by being there. Emotionally. Physically. Honestly. Consistently.

But now, may be in the last couple of years and definitely in the last one year, it feels that things have changed. I feel that you have changed and I guess you feel that I have changed. 

The person who once felt warm and genuine now feels distant and 'calculated'. I am sure that when you do things for people, you do not expect much. However, now very frequently, I hear that I did 'so much' for XYZ and I did not get anything in return. And invariably, that 'so much' is materialistic, expensive things. I have found it both strange and different. After all, friendship and generosity are not 'investments' and people's emotions cannot be 'returns'.

That shift is hard to ignore.

Another change is in the people you spend time with. They can be put in three broad buckets (and I am not including women; that's a very different subject). 

There are those above you. These are the ones you seem eager to impress, to emulate. I’ve watched you around them. You stop being yourself. You put up a performance. You are often quite fake in front of them. And I really do not think they respect you the way you think they do. I genuinely hope I am wrong.

Then there’s the middle ground - new friends who are similar to you in status. Comfortable, safe, predictable. No imbalance there, so no tension. You like spending time with them.

And finally, the ones who’ve been around the longest. The ones who knew you before all of this. The ones who care. This group also includes people who have not made it and probably never will. At least they would never achieve the definition of success that you have. You meet them but off late, it feels that you do not respect them. Their value seems negligible. Their voices are inconvenient.

Isn't it strange how the people who stood by you the longest now seem to matter the least?

The past couple of years have made this even clearer. You went through difficult times. To a large extent, it was self-created. From one bad habit to another (let us call them that as I really do not want to be specific). When you felt low, sad, depressed, angry - I was there. Not perfectly, not always with the right words, but I stayed. I questioned you when I had to because I am a friend and not a 'Yes Man'. I supported you when you needed it. I didn’t walk away, even when you tried to push me out. 

During this period, you made several choices. Some of them, extremely hard to defend. Harder to watch. I remained by your side.

I tried to be the 'voice of conscience' and told you the right thing to do. You never did. I still remained by your side.

You hurt people. You dismissed them. You subordinated everyone and everything - work, family, friends, me and - above all - your pride and self-respect. That's the part that hurts me the most because I took pride in you and respected you. I tried to stop you. You distanced yourself, proudly declaring that you no longer care what anyone thinks - that you’re finally living life for yourself. 

Well...you are succeeding. And I genuinely hope you are happy.

You pushed everyone away. Even those who once stood firmly beside you. You’ve drawn lines where there didn’t need to be any. And yet, when those same people feel bad and step back, you act surprised!!! Hurt, even!!!

That part is almost poetic.

I can already imagine your reaction to all of this - something along the lines of, “After everything I’ve done…”

And that’s exactly the point.

Not everything can be bought. Not loyalty. Not respect. Not self-worth. Contrary to what you might believe now, not everyone is transactional. Not everyone trades dignity for gifts, or affection for favors. Some people still hold on to things like pride and self-respect. Outdated concepts to you perhaps but they matter to people. 

For what it’s worth - I never stayed because of what you offered. Not the gifts. Not the gestures. Not the things you insisted on giving. Take back everything you have given and more....but return my old friend.

I stayed with you because of who you were. You used to care. You used to listen. You used to understand without needing explanations. That version of you - that’s the one who mattered. This version… now feels unfamiliar. 

I am hurt.

You know that. Not because you understood. Now, I no longer expect that from you. You know that because you asked, "are you mad at me for something"? And I told you. And then what? You chose silence over conversation. I would never do that to you because this is not what friends do.

But ya, it’s an interesting choice - to walk away from someone who doesn’t need to ask if you’re hurting, because they already know. You have said that to me. I understand when you are hurt, sad, angry, depressed, anxious. I get that by looking at you. I get that from your voice. If I have to ask you then I have failed as a friend.

I am someone who stayed. I am someone who cared. Someone who, despite everything, still does.

But I don’t expect anything from you now. Not explanations, not apologies, not a sudden return to who you were. High hopes, isn't it??!! What am I even thinking? I know your reaction if and when you read this would be what I said earlier, "Wow...after everything I’ve done, this is what I get...."

I just hope - genuinely - that whatever path you’re on keeps you as happy as you believe it will. That the bubble holds. That the wonderland doesn’t crack under its own weight.

And that your 'Pursuit of Unrealistic Happiness' turns out to be worth it. Because it did cost something. More than you realize - or may ever be willing to admit.

Take care. I mean that. Even now. 

You have hurt me immensely. You know that - unlike you - I do not have many friends and when I needed anything, I have always turned to you. Thanks for taking that away. You have shown me, with remarkable clarity, how little I matter.

But I still care and...I always will. I have not given up on you. It is not in me at all. I still hope that one day you will stumble your way back to senses and understand your priorities and the people who genuinely care. Will wait...