Talk to you never—even the best friendships can have expiration dates.

Ending a friendship is never going to be easy—but sometimes, it has to be done. And trust me, I’ve had my fair share of failed friendships. On one hand, my BFF and I have been the best of friends for 21 years and counting. However, I’ve had other friendships who haven’t even scratched the surface of that amount of time.

My friendships have ended for a number of reasons; sometimes we just grow apart, other times I’ve come to realize (sometimes too late) that our personalities are just never going to mesh they way they should with a true friendship. But no matter the reason, if a friendship isn’t bringing you happiness anymore, it could be time to delete it from your life.

I used to have a really tough time letting go of failed friendships.

If I’m being really honest, I still do. For example, there’s a girl who I was once super close with. We would hang out constantly, confide in each other, chat on the phone when we weren’t in the same city. Then after six years of friendship, seemingly out of nowhere, things fizzled out. I found that it was always me reaching out, and her saying “yes” but never solidifying any plans.

This failed friendship was especially hard for me to accept because there was no “aha” moment. There was nothing for me to pinpoint as the exact time that our friendship was doomed. So, naturally and wrongfully, I started thinking: Is it me? Of course, even if it was me, there isn’t much I can do. I’m not going to beg someone to be my friend. As I said before, sometimes friends just grow apart.

That being said—there have been some failed friendships that I can tell you in excruciating detail the exact second it ended. Here are three horrifying examples of when I knew with absolute certainty that it was time to mute and move on. Oh, and all names have been changed, of course.

3 Times I’ve Dealt with Failed Friendships

The Sweet, Repeat Apologizer

I met Lily at work. She was super sweet, outgoing and easy to get along with. On my first day on the job, she asked me to go shopping with her. I was thrilled to have made a friend so quickly! We soon began hanging out more and more outside of the office. I introduced her to my friends, who also welcomed her into our group, and we all enjoyed hanging out together.

At first, things seemed fab. There was only one redish flag that I noticed: whenever we would go out for dinner or drinks, she’d always at the last minute place the heftier items on my bill and promise to pay me back or grab “dessert” later—which was always way less. But whatever. I’m weird when it comes to money and I get that other people just don’t care.

It wasn’t until Lily got a boyfriend that I really noticed her quirks. She turned out to be the kind of girl who ditches everything and everyone for her Man of the Moment. However, what I didn’t expect is that she’d make plans with me and then just not show up. First, it was a fashion show. Then, it was a small get together I was hosting. Then, she asked to come to an event with me, I invited her, and she failed to show up—without a single word or explanation. Even after I asked her to please let me know if she couldn’t make it so I could invite someone else. She never called, she never texted and she rarely apologized. What kind of “friend” makes plans with you, confirms they’re going to be there, and then completely ghosts?

In my books, three strikes and you’re gone.

Unless, of course, there is a serious excuse. But that wasn’t the case here. I called her out on her shady behaviour and she told me she was going to “courier over a bottle of Veuve Cliquot” to apologize. It’s now been a year. I’m not holding my breath.

The Charismatic Backstabber

Carlee and I met at an event. She was on the organizing side and I was attending through The Lady-like Leopard, so we were bound to meet at some point. We hit it off and soon were on the fast track to being best friends. Actually, it was like a relationship on high speed: we went for dinners, we slept over at each other’s houses, we met each other’s families. You could call it “friendship at first sight.” We did everything together.

My other friends weren’t as quick to warm to Carlee as I was. They asked me not to bring her around as much and that didn’t sit too well with her. She would get upset when I chose to hang out with other people and sometimes called me names for it. However, she would always profusely apologize and I would end up forgiving her.

To say Carlee was a jealous friend would be an understatement. She once burst in on me in the bathroom at a party—while I was sitting on the toilet—to ask me if I liked her or another friend better. I’m serious. Mid-pee, she wanted me to answer that question. I was so flustered I think all I managed to say was, “Well… I’ve known you longer?” Thankfully that was to her satisfaction and she left me alone.

Then, she had an idea: moving in together. I’d been dying to get out of my apartment but felt hesitant about living with someone like Carlee—jealous, needy and prone to savage mood swings. Although she was super fun and sweet, I wasn’t sure if that would translate into a happy home together.

However, she was dead set on the idea. She was already planning our couch situation, where we would place plants, who would pay for what. I thought my brain was going to explode. She was going on and on about it during a girls weekend away and I asked her if we could put the planning on the back burner and just focus on having a good time. She agreed, but she was pissed off. I could tell, and so could everyone else. I didn’t want things to get awkward, so I excused myself to bed.

As I was finishing up my nighttime routine, I heard Carlee in another room talking about me to one of my friends that she had just met the night before. She was saying I was a “terrible friend” and all I do is “use her” and she does everything for me and I don’t do anything in return. My blood was on fire. Did she think I was asleep and took that opportunity to rant about me behind my back? Well, I wasn’t about to let that happen.

I popped my head around the corner and said, “Goodnight ladies, just finished brushing my teeth. Great conversation, I really appreciate everything you’ve said.” You should have seen her face. Her jaw hit the floor in record time. She then ran (literally, ran) to my room, flung open the door and started sobbing an apology. But you know what they say: sorry for getting caught, not for what you did.

After that weekend, she was out of my life for good.

The Alluring Abuser

I was introduced to Amira through a mutual acquaintance. She too seemed like a fabulous friend to have at first. She was quite a bit older than I was and I liked the idea of having a more mature, wise & worldly friend. But oh my God, was I wrong. So, so wrong.

We started out having a working relationship, but eventually we were hanging out all the time, regardless if we were working or not. I was freelancing then so I had pretty open availability. At least 3 days a week, I’d be at her place. She would cook for me, or take me out, and give me lunches to take to my other freelance jobs. Also, she would always have a chilled bottle of wine or champagne waiting.

In the beginning, drinking during the day seemed fun and carefree. But what I thought was a one-off Friday afternoon happy hour turned into Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday happy hour too. And when I’d try to decline a glass, she would pressure me until I eventually said yes and ever so slowly nursed my drink.

She would get nasty when she drank. But she loved alcohol. Her boyfriend broke up with her because of her volatile moods while drinking, and her best friend ended their friendship too. I felt like I was all she had left, and so I continued to stay by her side—even when she’d spit mean words at me after drinking a bottle of wine to herself. She told me I was boring, no one liked me and that no one wanted to be my friend. (All of which, in my humble opinion, is false.)

But she had a way of sucking me back in, every time.

A major warning that our friendship was doomed to fail was at one of my birthday parties. I invited her along to meet all of my closest friends. After the party, no one had anything nice to say about her. Not one person, not one thing. I mean, if the people I cherish most couldn’t tell me a single redeeming quality about her, something was wrong.

The final straw was a trip we did together. And you know what they say about that: travelling with someone can easily make or break a friendship. Well, our friendship was completely shattered. We’d gone on trips together before but after two years of borderline abusive behaviour from her, I was ready to call it quits for good. And the cherry on top was her ex-boyfriend sending me screenshots of texts she had sent him talking badly about me behind my back. They were so awful and mean, I felt sick to my stomach.

Ultimately, I believe that every person you meet is there to enrich your life in some way—either good or bad. Perhaps we wouldn’t fully appreciate the gems in our lives if it weren’t for the terrible “friends” that worm their way in. I learned more than I wanted to, but definitely what I need to, from these failed friendships.

Although I was left sad, confused and with a strong sense of betrayal by these women, I wouldn’t be who I am today without them. It sounds cheesy, I know, but you’ve got to take the fabulous times with the disastrous ones and vice versa. And even if I’m never ready to accept another failed friendship again, at least I’ll know how to.

Bye bye, BFF. Talk to you never!

—ᴍᴍᴍ

Also, please keep in mind that this is just a snapshot of these failed friendships. Obviously there were more incidents and details that I could have included, but this is a blog post, not a memoir.