She's not ghosting you,
that friend of yours,
she's just struggling.
To do it all. To be it all. To keep on. To keep up.
To be honest, I had to look up the term ghosting
-- (thanks, mid-thirties) --
but once I did, I realized that I've probably ghosted who I consider to be some of my closest confidants and that, well, even as of today, it seems like some of my gals are ghosting me.
But what if that's not what we're doing to each other at all.
What if when we pull away from our friends, or they pull away from us, it has absolutely nothing to do with the quality and worth of the friendship and everything to do with what each of us needs (or doesn't need) in our stressful, chaotic, pandemic-plagued lives?
Perhaps I need more self-care, so I'm pulling away to make time for that.
Maybe you need to feel a little less pulled and needed by others, so you're backing up to ease up on the tugs for your attention.
Perhaps I'm feeling down, and I don't want to bring you below with me.
Maybe you're riding a high and worry if you draw too much attention to it, you'll lose it.
I get it.
I get you.
And I pray like hell to find, keep, and maintain friends who get me.
Who don't just accept my attempts at pulling a Casper,
but understand them, and don't hang me for 'em.
Life is hard, but friendship isn't.
Not really, when you think about it.
'Cause friendship isn't another challenge you need to take on; it's what sticks around while you're taking on the challenges. At least that's how friendships are supposed to work, and I can only hope that yours are working that way for you.