Dating : Why I Believe My Friendship Is Over

You probably aren’t aware that your friend is using you.

Everyone has someone in their life who is friends with you for vain reasons. For your magnificent beach house. For the times you pick up their calls at two in the morning. For the way you make them feel superior when they compare themselves to you.

You’re trapped in their narcissistic approach to life, and their razzle has you unable to see beyond the performance. You believe the greatest act of their life; that they care about you.

I had no idea I was the used. I thought this was how this person was. I thought he was just a little selfish sometimes.

I met Paul too many years ago. We met through mutual friends, over cocktails and small talk. We had an instant connection, something that I took as a sign. I couldn’t ignore our somewhat spiritual connection. The way the universe was telling me that we should be soul mates, that our friendship would forever be impenetrable.

No, the universe wasn’t telling me anything. It was his perfect manipulation of my heart.

There were warning signs everywhere. With the magnificence of hindsight, I relieve every moment of his tactical manipulation as I cringe at my naivety.

The problem with users is how crafty they are at keeping you in their life. Often you don’t know you’re being used until all your tears have run dry, along with your bank account and dwindling time.

Friends like this should not only not be your friend, but they make sure you lose your faith in humanity. Your ability to maintain friendships becomes distorted by their indulgent behaviour. They keep you where they want you.

Users are everywhere. Finding them amongst the trickery is the challenge.

In business, we measure success by how many times a person opens their wallet. In friendship, you can do the same.

A friend who is using you won’t pay. You will go out to dinner, and they won’t offer to pay for the bill. Or they will wait for you to bring up the subject of money. Or, worse, volunteer your credit card before theirs.

I would watch as Paul would wait by the bar for my wallet to open. As soon as my wallet reached my hands, he stood there and waited for her drink. One night, I totalled that between me and everyone else we were hanging out with, he only purchased one drink from five rounds. Not even a full round of drinks. Just the one drink for himself.

We don’t merit a friendship based on how much we spend on each other. Yet, if someone is taking from you without repaying the favour, they’re only in it for the free “meal.”

When a potential lover isn’t into you, they don’t flirt back. When a job doesn’t want to hire you, they don’t respond to your resume. When a friend is using you, or only wants you when it suits them, they don’t show up for you.

But worse than not showing up is the way in which they do it. They tell you they will be there, they make false promises, with no intentions of keeping them. They will often be so specific about when they will show up, to the minute with their promise. And then they will exaggerate the reasons they couldn’t make it.

Paul was the master of timing. He would tell me the precise train he was taking to meet me. To the minute. The details were agonising. Then something would go wrong with the train, a delay. Suddenly, like an apparition, the train line became cancelled. And he didn’t have the money for a taxi.

This performance is to keep you on their good side. You can’t blame a broken-down car. You can’t blame death in the family. So you’re kept on the hook. How can you chastise them for something that wasn’t their fault?!

Like a perfect theatre, he fine-tuned his performance. The excuses became more elaborate. The reasoning for his absence more absurd.

I accepted his apologies. And in my acceptance of his performance, I allowed him to continue.

If you receive an invitation, you discover it’s because they want something from you. The invitation, or even the innocent text message, seems like it is to reach out to you. But as quickly as the politeness is over, they enter into business talk.

They want your advice, or they need you to do something for them or come to a professional event they’re organising. They want you for your humanity, your room-filling capacity, and not for you.

Paul: Hey, been a while. How are you doing? xx

Me: I’m ok. Have had a lot of issues with work, but slowly getting through it. The grind, you know! How are you?

Paul: I really need some help with . . .

And if they aren’t getting what they want or need from you, they ignore you. I couldn’t always solve Paul’s problems, or make it to his soirees, as he called them. For weeks he wouldn’t speak to me, wouldn’t respond to my messages. What did I do wrong? I continually thought I was the one letting him down.

He calculated the silence. As his muting extended, my guilt deepened.

I expect objection and debate over this, but people with lots of friends rarely make good friends. Or friends that are genuine.

The more people you add to your life, the harder it is to have meaningful relationships with them all. Our ability to love only has so much capacity. The more you have to commit to, each person gets less of you.

Paul has hundreds of friends. Every time he posts on Instagram, it’s with someone different. I don’t understand how he has the time to maintain the same genuine connection with so many people. He goes to work, and certainly, he sleeps. The math simply doesn’t add up to me.

Paul is a hoarder of friends. He stockpiles them, keeps them for a rainy day, holding on to them “just in case.” I don’t want him to keep me as a friend because the numbers don’t stack up. I want friends who have time for me in their life.

Selfishly, I don’t want to share my friends with hundreds of other people. How will I get time with them?

You will be the last person to break up with your using friend. Everyone else around you will before you do, and they will cut ties or stop making effort long before you realise.

Of the friends you share with them, take careful note of who remains standing. Are there people defending your using friend’s actions? Or do they spend too much time consoling you every time they let you down?

There is only one left committed to Paul. One girlfriend of mine, who faithfully keeps him within our circle of friends, expresses her unwavering support for his opinion and actions. Everyone is like me. We’re tired of the disappointment.

When your concern peaks are when your other friends stop consoling you. That’s when you should know better. When the user’s name comes up in a sentence, and you witness the collective eye roll, your friends are trying to tell you something.

If anyone mentions their frustrations with Paul, I roll my eyes. The words “what did you expect?” come to mind.

I believe people can evolve and find clarity. I believe anyone can reform their ways. But users, people who take without giving, never seem to find that selfless attitude to life.

In my experience, they’re always hunting for more. They’re always looking for ways that they can get more from their surrounding people.

And they rarely give back. They’re rarely there during times of need.

Paul is yet to change, he’s unable to evaluate how his behaviour translates to me. He continues to take; he continues to manipulate situations to value him. And he continues to ration his selflessness for the moments that suit him.

I hope the person I know, who has inspired this article, realise how his actions come across. Yet, I’m sure I’m setting myself up for the inevitable heartbreak.

Friends are friends because they want to be around. Not because they want something from you.

I think I will keep getting used, as long as we remain friends. As long as I keep my expectations high and my hope for change just as high, I will. For my heart, I need to protect myself. I need to protect myself from feeling like an object rather than a person. I’m not a toy. You can’t switch me on when it’s convenient. And you can’t discard me when you’re finished.

Everyone has an agenda in life. Every action comes with a reason. But if that reason is to gain something from you, without giving back, it’s time to let go.

You deserve better. I deserve better.