We done. I don’t love you any less, but we done.

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What do you do when you want something for someone worse than they want it for themselves?

I’ve always prided myself on being able to build solid, lasting relationships.

I don’t make friends easily. Now, I can’t imagine anyone not liking me, although I’m sure it’s happened and I was unaware. There have been a couple of times when I knew someone didn’t like me, but because of who it was, I didn’t particularly care.

I’ve just been selective in who I invest in. It’s an introvert thing. If we’re friends, you’re stuck with me, unless we move on because of distance, interests, or something else. 

But what if you DO care?

For those of you who know me well, I’m going to deal in hypotheticals here. So don’t spend a lot of time trying to figure out if I’m talking about one specific individual. This is a fictional character – or, at most, a composite.

Let’s call her Martha.

I first met Martha my sophomore year in college. She was supercute. We had a couple of classes together. I don’t know if there was any “chemistry” there, but it was pretty obvious early on that we could have a relationship.

We became friends first. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to happen? She had a wry sense of humor, was somewhat introverted, but could still strike up a conversation with anyone. Actually, I didn’t know of anyone who didn’t like her.

There was this unspoken thing between us, and we were both sensitive enough to know it. We would never be anything other than friends. And that was just the way it was supposed to be. If the relationship had gone to another level, it would’ve messed everything up. So friends we remained. Really, really good friends.

We were sort of inseparable. We were so, so open and transparent with each other.

Invariably our conversations gravitated toward two things. We were both Christians. Martha was well read, and we’d have these late night theological discussions about the most obscure tenets of our faith. We tended to have the same beliefs.

The other, of course, was romantic relationships.

We’d talk about the differences in males and females – especially the vast chasm between how we looked at dating life. Martha got plenty of attention from guys. I wanted to vet them all. And she did the same, and more than once she kept me from really messing up with some girl. Fortunately, that personal threshold between us was never crossed. While I was astutely aware of just how pretty she was, and I kind of enjoyed being seen out and about with her, a dating relationship was never an option. Which was good; sometimes I think a friendship can be one of the most pure, uncomplicated relationships around.

Growing old together? 

I thought that’s what was going to happen. We’d joke about that. We’d talk about both of us being in the nursing home with our spouses, spending evening playing dominos. We talked about being in each others’ weddings.

And then, the bad thing. 

It was over a guy. Wouldn’t you know it?

I knew Charles vaguely – we didn’t run in the same circles, but I was on a decent enough acquaintance level with him. He was handsome, of course, and charming, and always at ease. I liked him well enough.

He and Martha had grown up in the same town, went to the same school, but he’d graduated a year earlier than her. While they knew each other growing up, they really hadn’t had anything to do with each other.

Now – for reasons unknown – they’d rediscovered each other.

Bottom line is that they started dating. She’d asked me what I thought, and I’d observed them together. I’l spare you my “A guy knows another guy” lecture, but the simple fact is that this cat only had one thing on his mind. You don’t think I could look in his two eyes and tell you what he was up to?

So I told her what I thought.

She’d asked me what I thought, right? But what I said wasn’t what she wanted to hear. I told her that he was decent, but that she could do better. I told her that he had the capacity to tell her just the stuff she wanted to hear. I told her I thought he was capable of manipulating her and the relationship.

She took it in stride, but I knew she was gonna do whatever she wanted to do anyway.

My mistake? I couldn’t let it go.

Truth and not fiction here – I want to fix everyone and everything. I want everyone to be happy, to get along, to be at peace. Maybe that’s some sort of weird codependency thing. I’m not sure.

So I kept warning, giving advice. Finally, one night, Martha said, “Tony, you’re gonna have to give this a rest. You’ve said all you need to.”

I feigned hurt, told her that she’d misunderstood, that I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, all that.

She blew up. I don’t mean just telling me to back off. She went Vesuvian on me. It was awful. I didn’t see it coming, and I couldn’t even respond.

Martha spent a good ten minutes peeling the hide off me, accusing me of meddling, of misunderstanding, of being sanctimonious and holier-than-thou. She said I’d been that way with her and others for a long time.

There was more, but that was the gist. She cried. A lot. I couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in my defense. Blindsided doesn’t even begin to explain what happened to me. “I’m sorry,” I said over and over again.

And that was it. 

She stormed off after that exchange, and you know what? It was the last real conversation we ever had.

I reached out to her through friends, because she wouldn’t take my calls. When we were in proximity to each other, what little conversation we had was brittle and uncomfortable.

I wanted to patch things up, to make things right. She would have nothing to do with it or me.

I’ve spent a lot of time on this story. Here’s why, and here’s my takeaways. Maybe they’ll be yours, too, because I’m fairly certain you’ve had a relationship go south yourself. Maybe you didn’t handle it appropriately. Maybe you aren’t over it yet.

  • You aren’t exempt from loving that person. Nope, you don’t get a pass. If you’re a believer, hate isn’t an option. You are commanded to love them (love your enemies, right? That’s a non-negotiable.)
  • Love, in this context, isn’t a feeling. You will feel what you will feel. That’s not what this is about. Love, here, is a purposeful act that exists apart from your emotions. (I don’t know how to tell you how to disengage your emotions from this. You just choose to.)
  • Relational issues may be objectively obvious to you as you observe someone else. But etch this in stone if you want something for someone worse than they want it for themselves, you will experience horrific grief. 
  • You have to develop the skills and sensitivity to know when a relationship can’t be salvaged. If you’ve reached out in good faith, had an attitude of accepting and receiving forgiveness, and done all that decency and Christian faith have required, and you’re still rebuffed, it’s done. But refer back to that first point.
  • Sometimes you genuinely have to mind your own business. Enough said.
  • I don’t want to address self-care too much here, but you do need to protect yourself from emotional pain. There can be a breaking point when you’ve done too much to try to fix things.
  • Ultimately, you may need to simply close the door. Or even slam it. 

Which brings me to the title of this blog. I mean what it says. Sometimes you just have to be done with someone. Not mad. Not upset. Just done.

Our challenge is to be done with them in love. Do this, and allow God to do the healing. Perhaps, in His providence, He’ll restore that relationship, and you need to be sensitive to His hand as it works in your life (and the other persons’ life.) Until then, take care of yourself.

13 thoughts on “We done. I don’t love you any less, but we done.

  1. One from the heart and a hard lesson to learn but one i needed to hear again. I also sent to my best friend who is going through a divorce for her to know it is time to move on

  2. On point and a good reminder that as Christians, we are not entitled to just get mad and leave. We have to do everything in love. It’s so hard!

  3. Good morning Tony!
    Thank you for sharing your heart and being transparent.
    I may not have a T-shirt, but I have been there!
    And it is also good to know this kind of situation is described in the Scriptures.
    I have found and continue to find that pressing the issue/relationship usually causes more harm than good.
    Trust the Holy Spirit to give you wisdom and discernment in each and every situation.
    Thanks again!

  4. I’m having a hard time with this, though I’m working through it. Currently separated , over a year, from my spouse of 40 years this year. When things really went south, I did everything I could do, even counseling, to try to resolve the issue. All he would say is that he didn’t know what I could do to fix things. I was in such a low place, God hit me up side my head and told me I had to move on. I’m trying. It’s a hard thing to do – abandon a relationship that you’ve been in for so long. I’m very apprehensive about my future, but I know in Whom I have believed and He will see me through!

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