Breaking Bread

Breaking bread with someone is one of those phrases you sometimes hear and find a little odd.  I've heard it used in the context of making peace.  So when you break bread with someone, you either agree to overlook past disagreements to become friends or you simply begin a friendship anew.  In this way, it has a positive connotation--one of peace and sharing.  But that's not what this post is about.  It's mostly about breaking, and only a little bit of it has anything to do with bread.

I finally realized two nights ago that we're over.  Yes, you, who has clung to me since the beginning when I actually needed you more because you're extroverted and make friends.  I followed you then, I went where you did, spent time with the people you liked, and tried to make the same friends you did.  That's how I ended up with the friends I have now, in large part because I followed you there.  But somewhere in there, I found myself and people I liked, and I didn't need you anymore.  We remained friends because I appreciated your company every once in a while and I was more than happy to help.

You needed me.  In a way, you still do.  I think I'm one of the few who have actually listed to all of your nonsense, your foolish ramblings and unreasonable demands, without giving you hell for it.  I've never discouraged you and I've been there when you needed me.  I was there for you like any friend would be.  And that one night last year when I ran into your bedroom crying and you were on the phone so I walked out to give you your space...I don't hold that against you.

Then there was the night where I was crying in my own abode, and you bounced in (and I do in fact mean bounced) and asked if I had bread.  I know I've written about this before, but I'm going to write it again.  Because there were tears streaming down my face, my hair was in disarray and I was falling to pieces, and you didn't even notice.  You were supposed to be my friend, you were supposed to be there for me.  I would hope you would have noticed my crying over worrying about whether or not I could give you bread.  I guess I was wrong.

But even then, I didn't walk away from you.  I didn't try to get away from you.  I remained friends, even when you did stupid things and complained needlessly.  I was still there for you.  But two nights ago, I finally realized that I don't care anymore.  For once, I almost told you off, and if you had said one more thing, I promise you, I would have.  I didn't.  I'm fairly glad of that because I don't like saying such things to people, whether or not they are my friends.

We are over.  I won't avoid you, I won't refuse to speak to you, I won't treat you any differently than I did before.  But now I see what I didn't then--that you don't know how to really value me for everything I've done for you.  I'll still be there when you need me.  But I won't seek you out for anything.  I'll try to help when I can.  But don't expect me to go out of my way for you anymore.  I'm really sorry it turned out like this, but you messed it up for us and that's all there is to it.  I wish you the best in life, but may you lead a path that keeps you a safe distance from mine.