I had a friend named (). We had been friends since childhood, and our time together was always interesting and fun. However, she had one flaw – she only listened to herself. In our younger years, this wasn’t a significant issue. I had to repeat things multiple times before she would listen, but I didn’t take this aspect of her character seriously. I thought, “So what if I have to say something a few times before she acknowledges it? Nobody’s perfect, and she was still a great friend.”
But it was precisely this trait that led to the rupture of our friendship. She rushed into marriage right after high school, while I went on to university, graduated, and started building my career. Nevertheless, our friendship persisted. Due to our different interests, our interactions became less frequent, but we still considered each other friends. After all, isn’t friendship about more than just the frequency of contact?
However, my mother was always puzzled by our friendship. She’d often ask, “What can you even talk about? Besides gossip, she has no other interests.” And in some ways, my mother was right.
By the time of my wedding, already had three children, aged ten, eight, and six. I invited her and her husband to the wedding but warned her in advance, “Please don’t bring your children. I’ve witnessed the chaos that can ensue at family gatherings, and I want this day to be peaceful.” I knew her well enough to repeat this warning eight times since she had a habit of not paying much attention to what others said.
On the day of my wedding, she arrived with her entire family, including the children, despite my repeated warnings. I confronted her, saying, “I told you not to bring the kids. I’ve had enough of witnessing chaos at family events.” She responded, “Where else am I supposed to put them?” and walked away, leaving the wedding venue. I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. She took offense, as if I were to blame for her inability to heed my words.
