There Are No Songs….

I’ve been thinking of the quality of friendships lately and so an essay, by Gemma Hartley, on an unexpected loss of a friendship, by someone she thought had been a good friend, piqued my interest.

Since that same sudden shock happened to me, a few years ago, I was struck by Ms. Hartley’s astute observation that our culture doesn’t offer a way to grieve the ghosting of a friendship.

To talk to other friends about losing a valued friendship could make the teller feel vulnerable to suspicion that he or she must have done something horrible (even that he or she may be someone to avoid), so sharing the loss with other friends is a possible mine field.

There are no songs to help the one who has been ghosted to weep not only the loss, but also to absorb the deep sadness of the shocking way it happened. Therapy can add additional insult to the injury, in that those who have suffered have to pay to talk and since the cause may never be understood (the first insult), there may not be any resolution except to face feelings of loss without any explanation from which to learn (if one has really done something wrong to deserve the loss and the ghosting).

The loss of the person I thought was a friend came so suddenly that it was an emotionally gutting shock that took me years to overcome. However, a good side of that loss is I’ve learned to view all friendships as potentially temporary (if longer, that’s a bonus). But a pox upon me if I ever leave a friendship, as my “friend” did, without the anesthesia of kindness deserved when knifing, slicing, and dicing the heart of a friend.

From my perspective, there’s no reason right enough, nor season cold enough, to end a friendship in such a way. Lessons can and should be shared (on both sides of the divide), before and from the cutting.