I once had a friend named Ksenia. We were friends since childhood. It was interesting and fun with her. But she had a flaw. Ksenia only listened to herself.
In our younger years, it wasn’t a big problem. Of course, I had to repeat the same thing three times before she would listen to me.
At that time, I didn’t take this character trait seriously. Well, repeating things a few times before she acknowledged my words wasn’t that bad.
Perfect people don’t exist, and in all other respects, she was a good friend. However, this particular aspect of her character was the reason for our rift. She rushed into marriage right after school.
Fortunately, the responsible man didn’t leave but honestly married her. On the other hand, I went to university, got my degree, found a job, and slowly built my career. But our friendship was not broken.
We didn’t interact often due to our divergent interests, but we still considered ourselves friends. After all, friendship doesn’t depend on the frequency of contact, does it? My mother was surprised by our friendship.
“What can you even talk about? Besides gossip, she has no other interest.” Well, in something, my mother was right.
At the time of my marriage, Ksenia already had three children: ten, eight, and six years old. Of course, I invited Ksenia and her husband to the wedding.
However, I immediately warned her, “Don’t bring the kids!” I had seen the chaos caused by my cousin’s children at her wedding.
Just you and your husband! And knowing her tendency to let things go in one ear and out the other, I repeated the warning eight times.
And so, the day of my wedding arrived. Ksenia came with her whole family. “I warned you – no kids!” I frowned. “Where am I supposed to put them?” “That’s not my problem! Take care of them.
I’ll only be happy to see you and your husband here!” I retorted. They left. And they didn’t come back. Ksenia doesn’t answer my calls. She’s offended, as if it’s my fault that she couldn’t listen to my words.
