I have read countless blogs that recommend the silent treatment when a friendship becomes too much like hard work. They suggest that the end can be simply too uncomfortable, that changes in social networks are normal, that it is possible to drift apart without the need for real communication. Although perhaps occasionally true, this outlook degrades some of the most meaningful connections we experience. The narrative formed by our relationship-centric culture implies that we owe our friends a lesser level of respect a diminished gratitude for our shared past than we would a sexual partner. For me, aged 21, hoping desperately that my friend would just tell me what Id done, this couldnt have been further from the truth.
If ghosting is poor form towards the sexual partners who come in and out of our lives, if we are able to treat those often transient suitors with decorum and respect, then surely we owe the women who stick steadfast by our side the same courtesy. I was once told that we should all put more friendship in our romances and more romance in our friendships. The end of my greatest romance has only taught me that this is true.
