This is all between You, me, and Her.

Things are never as simple as we would like, are they? I have been putting off this post for months now; not knowing what to say and fear of causing a fight had caused a paralysis that proved so hard to break through.

It’s still hard. Words are caught up in my fingers. I can say them, but I can’t type them, and it makes me feel powerless, unable to write what it is that I really mean, and how to express that I really mean what I say.

Do you know how hard it is to say “I can’t be your friend anymore?”

Usually, when friendships die, it is a slow painful death, with both friends able to part amicably. They both know - if they even notice that it’s happening - that it’s for the best. But occasionally there is a time in life when you see that that the ties holding you together are in fact strangling.

I should perhaps begin somewhere in the past, but this is a long story and perhaps for another day. The basic mechanics of society instruct us that history is to be maintained. Friends for life, and all that rot. It’s better to have friends with history than friends with benefits, for all I’ve ever been told. And this story is all about history. But, history is colored by the teller, just as memory is colored by time. I’ve had so much time on my hands that I’ve been able to erase the colors, and see again in black and white.She and I had been friends since we were 11. For those keeping score, that’s 12 years I was friends with Her. Through girl scouts, junior high to college. From first kisses to last dances. Broken heart to broken heart, stringing through the years. This is our history, written on the pages ripped out of notebooks, folded into hearts and flowers, in spikey scrawl and elaborate cursive.

Even now the weight of this history bears down on me, reminding me of what I gave up. My first best friend, the keeper of my secrets, the shared memories of our lives overlapping. It’s hard to comprehend what this is worth to me. She was my second sister, the one who fought with me, and then made up with out appologies. I didn’t choose to walk this path out of spite. I chose it because I didn’t have any other choice.

She and I have always been a volitile mix. It was an up-and-down friendship, strewn with fights and silence. And still I couldn’t see that it wasn’t healthy. Over and over, the same scenario kept playing out, and the end result was always the same. Crash and burn, only to be resurected six months later to be played out again.

meet boy - introduce me to boy - ask my opinion - decide I’m wrong - fight with boy / boy is abusive - ask my advice - ignore it - accuse me of trying to steal boy - fight - silence - break up with boy - acknowledge I may have been right - rinse, lather, repeat

I made the mistake of introducing Her to You. While my history with You isn’t as long, it certainly is as deep. You is my doppleganger, the me I would be if I were a man. Once, before I met Dustin, I did want to date him. However, as I grew to know him, I knew that even if we tried (not that he would), we would always be better as friends. You is the first male friend I’ve ever had that hasn’t tried to be friends with benefits, the first one who knew where I was coming from and what I ment when I talked in circles.

I introduced them because I didn’t see why I shouldn’t. I always like hanging out with all my friends together, so I didn’t see the harm. But then they started dating.

She is a jeoluse person, something I’ve always known. So I saw the begining of the end from the moment the countdown began. The way she’d drag me along on their first dates, but then be angry if You or I talked to each other. She resented the time we spent together if we wern’t with her. She resented the time we spent together when we were all three together.

And then the drama fell from the sky, like volcanic ash, coating everything in a fine dust that infiltrated lungs and heart. I had to get out, if only to save myself.

I don’t deal in drama. I left that behind when I graduated high school. I tried my best, though. I really did. I offered my ear, my shoulder, my support, and my advice. But she didn’t listen. And I’ve always been right. It has always been the same stuff over and over again. Life as a broken record, repeating all the stupid mistakes we’ve made before. And I can’t make those mistakes anymore.

It was a long five months, the begining of their relationship, and the decline of Yours and mine. I couldn’t call to talk to You without talking to her. I listened to her rant and rave about things that I as his friend shouldn’t have heard. I saw both sides of the coin, and she wanted me to pick her side. The problem was that with distance comes clarity, and I could see what she couldn’t.

The train wreck was inevitable, and no one jumped clear of the crash in time, least of all me.

There is only so much stress one person can handle. There are only so many times I can be accused of something before I walk away without a backwards glance.

I was not trying to steal You from Her. I haven’t wanted to date You except for one brief summer when I saw that he was a far better man than I had ever met up to that point. Why would I want You, when I have Dustin. I have never cheeted on anyone, at any time; I wasn’t about to start with You. You and I were friends before You and Her, just as She and I were friends before You and Her.

I didn’t decide to not be Her friend to hurt you. I did it because it was the only option I had left. If She wasn’t going to listen to me, and blaim me for all the problems in her relationship with You, what else was I left with?

Not being Her friend is the last good deed I could do. I couldn’t pretend empathy any more, when really with each passing day all I wanted to do was strangle some sense into Her. She deserves a better friend than I can be. I will never be anything other than I am, and I wasn’t about to go on pretending to be her friend when it wasn’t real anymore.

So, yeah, it’s over and done with. However, deciding to not be friends with Her has led to the unwanted side effect of not being about to hang out with You. She is extreamly jelouse, and hates when he hangs out with me. She picks fights with You when I call.

I understand her being bitter, because I would be too, if someone didn’t want to be my friend, but was friends with Dustin still. But I wouldn’t be jelouse. And I wouldn’t keep them from hanging out, because why would I punish Dustin for something another person has decided. I would be bitter, but I’d pretend like it didn’t bother me, and be civil to the person who didn’t want to be my friend.

But I suppose I’m different. I don’t dislike Her. I don’t wish bad things on Her. I just knew that for both of us to be happy while remaining friends was an imposibility, and I didn’t want to make her unhappy, or be unhappy.

So I don’t call You. I won’t make You pick sides, this is my decision after all. And we do what we can to stay in touch. But it’s hard, since the only time we ever get to talk is through IM, and we’re hardly ever online at the same time.

I can hope that one day things will change, but I’ve made my choice, and I’m sticking with it. And You understands and supports me, the same as I support him in dating someone I don’t particularly like any more.

- “Sending Postcards From A Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here),” Take This to Your Grave: Fall Out Boy