Don't Look Back

One of the most difficult things in life is to accept the dissolution of a friendship or a closer relationship. When blessed/cursed with an analytical mind, one ponders all the whys and wherefores and tries to determine whether the relationship can be rekindled by some clever strategy, as in chess when one can convert a lost position into a winning one through skillful maneuvers. The answer is an emphatic No, ninety-nine times out of a hundred. People have their own reasons that make perfect sense to them. People are seldom open to changing their position, unless you are gifted with amazing charm and powers of persuasion. I am not. I have found that decisions about terminating a relationship tend to be final and not open for negotiation. Trying to rekindle a dead relationship is like sorcery. It just doesn't happen except in fairy tales. Nevertheless, conscientious people tend to be disturbed by losing friends or family. The verb "losing" illustrates the problem. One feels a palpable loss, as of a limb. Our friends and family to a large extent make up our own self-image, bolster our confidence and give us a reason to get up in the morning. Their absence or their disengagement is felt profoundly.

I have learned a useful trick. I will engage in post-relationship analysis for a long time like any other fool. I will wonder what happened and why and try to determine whether there is any possibility of salvaging whatever remains, begging the question of whether anything remains at all. Perhaps nothing remains that is worth salvaging. I reach the end of every logical path and find that further analysis is pointless. I am simply spinning my wheels, each time arriving at the same conclusion, that I am better off without Mr. X or Mrs. X because of X, Y, and Z, not to mention Q, R, and S. In most cases I find that I have more to offer Mr. X than Mr. X had to offer me, and that therefore they are the loser. This is because I am good and ruled by ethics, while their other friends may or may not be, so they must take their chances and throw dice with their destiny. Perhaps they will be lucky, but their fortune is no longer my concern.

I wish to know what is real and what is not. I do not want to be deceived, but want to know the truth. To stop thinking about people from the past who must remain in the past--a practice also known as brooding--I use a trick. I like to visualize a glass vase falling from a table and shattering on a floor into a thousand pieces. In the case of long-term friendships, the vase is instead a glass chess piece, a King, signifying resignation from a long and complicated game. Sometimes I imagine a baby crying and then ceasing to utter any sound and becoming still and cold. These images position me firmly in reality and remove me from nostalgia and sentimentality. This visual technique helps me to break away from interminable analysis, from pointless and pathetic thoughts. When a player knocks their King down, the chess game is over. That's that. Time to move on to another game.

Some relationships have a firm foundation based upon mutual interests, mutual needs, trust, and real regard and affection. Other relationships are based upon such things as convenience, locality, opportunity, and temporary, material or bodily needs. Those relationships tend to be transitory. Such "friends" come and go, but mostly go. It's good to recognize who your real friends are and stick with them. It's also good to recognize who are really not your friends and never were in the first place. Sometimes it is humbling to realize how many of our assumptions are based upon falsehoods, but the reason is that many people have no problem with lying, or have set up various parameters within their ethical code that justify lying. Such people do not possess a legitimate sense of honor. Such people can't really be friends to anyone at all. Losing such "friends" is really a net plus. One gains a greater amount of trust in one's personal sphere by discarding the deceiving entity or entities or at any rate being rid of them altogether.