I hope and pray.

I have casual friends. And dear friends. The casual ones are more or less acquaintances. Not real. Not true. The dear ones, I try to revere. In many ways. But still, I occasionally stop. To evaluate. My dearest friendships. Especially if they have become one-way. Instead of operating on two-way streets. I generally give. A whole lot. But want something of value in return. Wonder if that makes me selfish. It’s happening now. I’m putting demands on a so-called dear friend. She ain’t taking adequate care of herself. She’s in noticeable decline. Drinking daily. Yes, she’s an alcoholic. I’m trying to get her to see the light. To look at life from a different, more positive  perspective. I want her to go in for the cure. For rehab. I desperately want her to become a recovering alcoholic. To put her life together again. Like it once was. But she doesn’t. And I’m getting tired of asking. Of pleading. Of begging. Once upon a time, that was my dear sister. She failed me. And maybe I failed her. By abandoning her. For many years. Because she refused to meet my demands. My friendship requirements. Now I have another friend. Who has let me down. Who has not adequately reciprocated our friendship. Who insists on destroying herself. And wants me to watch her total disintegration. Her slow and methodical suicide. And I’m refusing to participate. Refusing to be an enabler. I can’t take it emotionally any more. I’ve put her on notice. Our friendship is over. On suspension, at best. Unless she meets my demands. Only then is it possible for the friendship to be rekindled. I hope and pray. That happens some day. –Jim Broede