We’re Not Friends

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I’m what some would call a “giver”. In friendships, at work, and with family…if I care about you in any way, I will go above and beyond to make you happy. I don’t expect anything in return, except  appreciation. No grand gestures are needed. Just an honest “thank you” will suffice.
That being said, even a “giver” has their limits. When a person comes into my life who only takes, it’s a drain. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. Then you have those “takers” who also become a drain on my pocketbook. Someone who has just enough of a sob story to tug on the heartstrings. Nothing major. A bad relationship or a bump in the road financially. This person doesn’t come along often, but when they do, my optimistic nature always hopes for the best. A true Sagittarian, life has yet to beat the bright side out of me. (Some would call it naivety.)
There’s a little girl woman I met two years ago. She lived next door and our daughters attended the same kindergarten class. Our friendship started tentatively…on my part. Then the stories began. She got evicted from her last home for absolutely no reason. Her ex was a deadbeat. Her new boyfriend’s ex is a psycho. Her health is failing.
Then I find out: they hadn’t paid rent for two months; she left her ex for her current; he was married to his ex when they met. Her health I can’t really say, because after I found out that her mother had common traits of Münchhausen by proxy, I started backing away from the friendship.
Now, I’m not one for confrontation. I’m the type who will stay in a relationship and irritate the other person to the point of breaking things off with me…. yes, I realize how immature that is. Even so, I actually had the guts to tell this girl that I didn’t think our friendship was going to work (after catching her in several more lies). The problem being, our daughters were still friends, AND it was only halfway through the school year. I kept my cool and remained civil throughout the next year and a half,  even allowing my daughter to invite her friend for sleepovers(since they weren’t in the same 1st grade class) and she to go to sleepovers.
During this past summer, I changed my phone number. I did the requisite group text to those I felt needed to reach me. She Some people didn’t make the cut. Imagine my surprise when I hear my doorbell ring one day, and I open it to find her on the other side. “I’ve tried calling, but it said your number was out of service”, she says, confusedly. “Really? I sent my new number to all of my friends”, I say, passive/aggressively.  Actually, no. I don’t say that. Because I can’t be mean to people I view as weak. I gave her my number, but I sure hope her phone has a technological burp, and loses it.

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