Hi there Cam, I decided to respond to your note because this situation feels very similar to one I am dealing with right now. But mine is friendship, and I have been cast in the role of the man in your story by my friend. I thought my perspective and experience might help you, and I send it to you with that intention.  I have a friend who I absolutely love.  But truthfully, we are very different sorts of people socially, economically, professionally. No matter, I always appreciated this about our friendship. We laugh a lot, are supportive of one another, teach each other a lot, and get each other’s jokes. Over the past few years, we hang out more and visit a lot more than we had in the past. Like you with this man, I feel like we click. It’s fun to see her. But my life is also very large and rich. I have worked hard at constructing it. I am building a new business; I am a consultant. I am a graduate student x2 in two programs; I have strong relationships that I have made commitments to and causes that fill me up. I am committed to my health. I am very busy in my life, and not in need of rescue from it – and very grateful for all of it. Long road, slow learner. I give all that I can. But in the last six months or so, my friend is frustrated that I am not available to do more with her. Her comments about it feel like little barbs sometimes. She uses words as you did: bullied, made to feel illogical, desperate, stopped responding to texts, messages, canceled or just let drop a planned get together, dismissed instead of trying to understand, gave up, cut out, cold, 180 degrees, (s)he’s very busy, blocked. The first few times, I felt side-swiped. Her feelings made complete sense to her. To me, not so much.

The exchanges between my friend and me shifted with her increasing expectations of how she had decided I should feel about her feelings and how she thought I should behave. That doesn’t even make sense… my sentence…but neither does the feeling I am trying to convey. I feel claustrophobic and dread when I think of even spending 10 minutes with my friend now, and anger sometimes at her trying to force me into the role of her latest bully. I avoid her. I feel cautious of my friend trying to make me feel something for her feelings of being dismissed or hurt by me or others. I do the best I can, too, and am weary talking about talking. So, I backed off. Backing away is something he gets to do also. I have done it because the story in my friend’s mind hurts me, and doesn’t come close to resembling the story that I see all around me. I love my friend, and nothing can change that. But I am responsible for caring for myself too. I am caring for myself by breaking contact because none of my other attempts have been noticed or honored.

I say this with compassion: these issues she has with me, are her issues, and I believe have more to do with the size or state of her life, than the state of our friendship.  I have more in my life. She has less. I see her as making this choice. I have real obligations – and these obligations are my purpose. Yes, I am busy. And I love it, and I choose it. I do not want to have less time for the life I live so I can have more time for her. But I loved sharing my life with her in the ways that I could.

I feel like she ignores the cues I send her, which I have done gently to support her fragile esteem. But I realized that it is more unkind than being direct and holding a boundary once I set it.  So I have responded to my friend almost identically to this man’s response to you. I think he has tried to be kind to you. He has rebuffed you – gently and now firmly. He has tried to explain, without creating a confrontation. He has backed away to spare the memory of a good friendship that might have life left in it yet. Or at least this is me feeling a rapport with the character he plays in your story. I truly wish you well. I can see that this hurts.