Losing a Friend While Trying to Protect Them

Today, I lost someone I care for. Not in the literal sense, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. A wedge was put in between us, and now I sit here in the deafening quietness of something I never intended to do.

Let me make this as straightforward as possible: it was never my intention to hurt her. I never meant to ruin anything in her life, especially not her family. I wanted to look out for her and offer a perspective on something she may not have seen for herself.

It’s frustrating knowing that my intentions were taken out of context. I wasn’t coming from a place of judgment, but from a place of love. I wasn’t trying to criticize, but care. However, sometimes, even when one is being sincere, people are only going to hear what they are ready to listen to. She just wasn’t prepared.

I know how challenging it can be to receive advice from a friend, as it can be invasive, even when offered with goodwill. However, I wish to state for the record that I have never experienced jealousy, as I had no cause to do so. I am currently leading a fulfilling life and find happiness within my own space.

Observing something that concerned me, that she may not have been aware of, prompted me to offer her a different perspective.

That’s what friends do, right?

But the truth is, friendship can be very complicated. It is hard to find true friends. It’s difficult enough to make a friend. Keeping friendships is even tougher.

The most challenging aspect is navigating the emotional turmoil that accompanies genuine care for someone. I understand that. I’ve been hurt—not just by her words, but also by the energy, the change, and the actions that followed.

There are things I can’t comprehend. There are things I still ask myself. And I try to accept them and move on, even when it weighs heavily on my spirit.

Sure, we’re friends—or at least we were. But how do you handle seeing someone you care about walk away from their true potential? And when you know they deserve better, can do better, be better—and they don’t see that yet?

This is that tenuous line we walk in our friendships—you can want better and best for someone with all the energy in your body, but if they do not want it for themselves, it’s like saying nothing at all. And that’s the harsh reality.

And that reminds me of one of the hardest lessons I’ve learned: Never advise unless someone wants it and needs it. And even then, you might not want to give the advice; let them seek a therapist or counselor, and you can be there as a friend to support them.

Because advice, even when given with love, can sometimes be harsh. Sometimes, people take exactly the preventive measure you suggest. Then, when someone falls at an unlucky time, meaning when things go wrong, they return and say, “Why didn’t you tell me?!” You did. You tried! They were unable to listen, causing a rift in a friendship that may never heal.

Imagine trying to pull someone away from walking into a fire and being told you are jealous or controlling. And then they walk into the fire, and they get burned. And somehow, you are still the bad guy in their story. This is the situation I have been addressing. This is the difficulty I am presently endeavoring to understand.

Occasionally, I contemplate whether establishing close relationships is truly worthwhile. The greater the number of connections I cultivate, the more conflicts I tend to encounter. The more effort I dedicate, the more turmoil I inadvertently introduce into my life. Honestly, I am simply exhausted.

I pray for peace. For real peace. I pray for quiet, not quietness of being alone, but quietness of peace. I want peace to be a blanket that covers my life. I want it to protect me from the din of misplaced attribution and interpretive misunderstandings.

Above all, I pray for alignment. I seek individuals who are grounded, complete, emotionally mature, and spiritually aligned, capable of nourishing others, just as I will nourish them. I desire people who comprehend space, evolution, and love that is not always sugar-coated.

If you can’t align with the peace I’m creating, I have no room for you in my life. And I know that may seem cold of me, but it’s not. It’s necessary. Because my peace is not negotiable. My healing is not negotiable, in exchange for having a connection that is draining me.

So, if you ever loved me and truly knew my heart, please know this: I did not walk away with bitterness; I walked away with love and boundaries. That’s what self-preservation looks like.

And that is what I need right now.