Tonight I went to a friend’s thirtieth. She used to be my best friend. She used to call me every night when I was down just to check that I was okay. She listened to my problems, and there were many.

I knew that for awhile our relationship had been one-sided. I knew that but I was in such a dark place that I was just coping on getting through. And anyway, I thought, it won’t always be like this. And isn’t that what friends are for?

Looking back it was obvious what was happening. I shouldn’t have been surprised at her outburst, at the horrible things she said to me, and that she wanted no more of our friendship.

And then she was gone.

Six months later she sent me a christmas card. A month or so later we went to the same movie and chatted outside. Then she invited me to her thirtieth. I was so sad to think of the friendship we had lost and confused as to whether I really wanted her as a friend.

During my last depressive event my doctor asked me if I had any close friends who I could perhaps talk to or maybe stay over. And I answered no, not really. Since that friendship ended I have been wary of relying on my friends too much, just incase one day they are not there.