Here’s another in what now seems like an endless brokedown parade of depressing realizations: I was never as great of a friend as I thought I was. I was sometimes obnoxious and annoying. I could be randomly vicious. I was needy and offish at the same time. A lot of this can be blamed on alcohol, but not all of it. Meanwhile, I was constantly cataloguing the small faults and carelessnesses of my friends. I can’t believe it never crossed my mind that my friends were “putting up with” me as much as I was “putting up with” them.

I’m really talking about one friend in particular -- my best friend since college. We had a falling-out several months ago and have since gone our separate ways. Although we probably could have patched things up, I decided I wasn’t going to put forth the effort, and making concessions isn’t really his style. My decision was based partly on the fact that since I quit partying we didn’t have much to talk about or do together. That’s hardly his fault, but there are other things too.

I think the friendship is over, and I don’t see the point of letting him know I’ve realized I wasn’t a perfect friend. I feel better for having written it here, though. On the other hand, I’m deprived of the helpful self-righteousness I enjoyed so much during our past disagreements. Now I’m just sad.

Even worse, I feel another painful revelation circling, waiting for the landing strip to clear. This one has to do with my dancing ability. I’m not ready for it.

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