Leaving Port

Once again I am losing a friend.  Since my hearing loss three years ago this is nothing new.  Those I thought cared deeply for me, jumped ship.  And now it’s happened again.  images

I would never expose who it is though if this person reads what I’m about to pen they will know without question, since they’ve done it twice before.

The last two times we were reunited, my joy was that great, I forgot how painful the rejection was.

I should be used to this conduct by now having lost so many friends who cannot deal with my compromised state though always politely, passionately denied.  The last important one being Jed, and I don’t care that I’m using his real name since he hurt me that much.

Before I go on, you do know who your friends are when you’re crumbling where you stand.  They hold a vigil offering their hand letting you know, despite how it may feel, you are not alone…feelings after all, aren’t facts.

That said…this last defection shouldn’t surprise me yet it hurts right down to my socks.  I’ve learned though, someone’s bizarre, unpredictable behavior has little to do with you even if you are hemorrhaging because of it.

I can only compare it to watching a ship sail out of port.  It lifts anchor at the dock slowly taking leave.  You watch as it gets smaller and smaller disappearing over the horizon wondering if you’ll ever see it again.

I have the utmost respect and admiration for this person who I know struggles in their day to day existence.  My heart opens willing to do whatever it takes it help and assist.

Naturally in true Susannah fashion I blame myself and my multitude of problems people no longer wish to hear.  A shrink I had called this a Grandiosity Complex, always making it about you.  But when you’re hurt, it is about you, so shame takes center stage while friendship, a final bow.  But thank God, I’ve honed the skill of rallying.

Yet it doesn’t matter how I spin it…I still feel abandoned, but wisely see being the third time this dance was done, despite the pain, it has nothing to do with me…therefore…

I will quietly and sadly, bind my wounds.

And as always, wish her well.


About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
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13 Responses to Leaving Port

  1. micklively says:

    I’ve said it before: anyone who can treat you that way was never your friend and you’re well rid. I know that doesn’t ease the pain much.


    • Thanks Mick…will just to say to all my esteemed readers, I’d much prefer no comments on this…very painful and not looking for added sympathy since it seems to make it worse. As we get older, stranger things occur so out of our control. I’ve learned to expect it. Doesn’t ease loss by any means, but it’s just part of this time of one’s life.



      Liked by 1 person

  2. Lynn says:

    No inspiring words. Just a hug. A big bear hug:)


  3. I certainly hope this wound heals without scars. ((Hugs))

    Liked by 1 person

  4. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I know first hand how much it hurts when someone is a fair-weather friend. I’m so sorry that you are going through this. Like you, I know this person has their own ‘mental’ problems. So I’ll be there if she calls and will act as though nothing ever happened; until the next time. But it still hurts, doesn’t it? Friends don’t just grow on trees.


  5. BunKaryudo says:

    Oh, dear. This was so sad. I have to say, though, micklively up there on the comments thread has it exactly right.

    Liked by 1 person

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