microbie

At two of the weddings I attended this year, the brides described me as "her oldest friend," meaning the friend she's known the longest. I guess that's why I felt a little out of place at those weddings. I told my therapist that I felt like an 80s relic- a jacket with big shoulder pads or a feathered hairdo. She countered with "you could compare yourself to a vintage wine, something that ages well. Instead you're equating yourself with really bad stirrup pants." [This anecdote is a good example of why I like having doctors who are women about my age.] After the second time as the oldest friend, I joked that I'm the friend people can't get rid of.

How much of this phenomenon results from the lack of good ways to break up a friendship? I mean, breaking up with a friend not because of a fight or a breach of trust, but just because you no longer share common interests, priorities, or values. Most of those friendships slowly atrophy and disappear by mutual antipathy, but a few stubbornly persist, often an exchange of end-of-the-year holiday cards the sole vestige.

I have long been afraid that I would lose friends as they married and started families. My married friends haven't been married long, but so far marriages and families haven't been the divisive issues. Usually the change is deeper: newfound religious fervor, a loss of curiosity and wonder, desire to sever ties to the past.

Suddenly feeling as though I should sing "Auld Lang Syne," a sure sign that I've lost my mind.