8 freakin’ years.
I haven’t written about her before: my best friend at university. She was out of my life before I realized just how unhealthy we made each other. Before I knew about N. We were friends for 7 years. All through uni and a few years after.
8 years ago was the last time I had any contact with her. Until recently.
I never really thought about her. She only grazed my mind when I started understanding N. I remember thinking: she is out of my life, amen. So, it was done for me. And neatly and analytically filed it away as a great learning experience about friendship.
We both are narcissistic. We got our self-esteem from each other. So sick. We would insult each other subtly just to feel better about ourselves. Maybe the only good thing about our friendship was that we were each other’s supply so maybe I wasn’t so narcissistic to my other friends.
She contacted via e-mail. Since then I changed my e-mail but she searched for me on LinkedIN. My fault, my profile is open for recruiters. Unfortunately, LinkedIn doesn’t have the option of blocking your profile to Narcissists.
Her first e-mail to me felt strange, uncomfortable. She ended the e-mail with ‘Miss you tons.’ All I thought was: 8 freakin’ years, seriously.
My natural tendency was to say: she is still very much N but I stopped myself. If I am changing so can she. I believe people can change. Her follow-up e-mails were about the same: no questions about my life and her telling me details of her life and the one detail that upset me: she has 2 girls. And my heart-ached. It is a physical pain. To see the Ns in my life become parents. She is number 4. Their children: next generation bloggers.
Bravo, she managed to insult me subtly in the e-mail. After 8 freakin’ years. She still found a way.
She had wanted to meet up during my holiday visit back home last December. She blew me off and came back with an excuse some time late January. I stopped. Enough.
Then today she e-mailed me. She did ask How are you? With a follow-up of how busy she has been this summer and she is maid of honour in a wedding; blah, blah, blah.
I don’t know if I will respond. Part of me wants to see if there is an alternative motive to her contacting me. Like a free place to stay in Europe. My sick way of trying to prove myself right. 2 of my so-called friends have done that and I heard from them when they found out I moved and never again after their visit. I am judging her harshly and at the same time trusting my instincts.