There wasn’t really a last straw, but more like a gradual dislike.
My ex-friend, let’s call her Cathy, always seemed to have a few issues. She didn’t quite understand social cues, and was always attention seeking. If you conversed with her, she’d tell blatant lies about her life to one-up you.
It started with lies. She’d lie about knowing things to make herself seem smart. For example, one time we caught a fish. None of my friends were familiar with the type of fish, except for her of course. Cuz Cathy’s an expert in everything. She claimed that it was a sea bass. Definitely not. However despite my protests, she insisted it was a sea bass. I asked my grandfather, who’s been a fisherman for more than 60 years and he instantly knew what it was. When I tell her what it really is, she plays the guilt card.
“I’m so sorry!” “I’m so stupid!” “You probably hate me!” “I’ll never get anywhere in life!”
This is over a flipping FISH!
She’d lie about event in her life to make her seem more interesting. For about a week she had dissociative identity disorder, before it suddenly got ‘cured’. She claimed to have OCD, ADHD, depression, severe anxiety disorder, Schizophrenia, and dissociative identity disorder.
When one of my friends came out about being beaten by her father, Cathy claims that she understands because her mother slaps her sometimes. Trust me, Cathy’s mother would never do that.
I started making friends with other people, and I fount them fun to be around! Cathy would join in our private conversations and make them about herself. Oh, you have a dog? She does too, except she hates her dog and her dog is special. She’d interrupt and then drag me away.
I told myself it was fine. Until things started getting physical.
One of my friends was reading a book. She gets immersed in the world of the book, so she didn’t realize when Cathy was calling out to her. When Cathy didn’t get Emma’s attention, she punches Emma’s shoulder full force. Emma has a low pain tolerance, so she started crying. What does Cathy do?
“Ow my wrist! I’ve always had a bad wrist since I was a child,”
Another time I go to give her a fist pump. She full force punches my hand and laughs when my knuckles turn red.
“Haha your knuckles are red! Mine aren’t because I punch my wall!”
I thought maybe it was a fluke. Until she does it again and I lose it.
“Cathy, if you want to compete in strength I could blow you out of the f***ing water. Who’s the one that’s had training in self defence? That would be me. I’d appreciate if you don’t do that again,”
Then she plays the pity card again.
In yoga she kicked me on purpose obviously.
While we were walking on the sidewalk she body slams me into the ground. When my hand in an inch on her desk she slaps it off. I eventually stopped talking to her.
Emma calls me and tells me that Cathy is now on antidepressants, and comes home crying every day because she feels she has no friends.
I was so done at this point. I’m not a horrible person, I didn’t bully her or anything. I just didn’t hold a conversation, or text her. I wanted to confront her but Emma already did and it didn’t work out too well. I guess there wasn’t a last straw, but rather a breaking point where I became so done with our ‘friendship’.