In my experience, I have found that toxic friendships are about as healthy as frequenting every subway stair rail with your tongue.

Yet, for reasons beyond my understanding, these relationships, while obviously harmful to those involved, remain status quo for way too long. What is it about us that we don’t leave the minute the friendship goes down the tubes? Is it really possible that it’s too much of an inconvenience to change our lives? I don’t know the reason, but I have come to understand how ludicrous it is to hold on to what is, essentially, a tumor manifesting itself in the human form.

Nine years ago, I was your average fourth grader, wearing T-shirts with kittens asleep in baskets (I still wear those, actually), minding my own business. Then, God decided that it was his cue to play a joke on me. The outcome: a friendship with one who we will christen, for the sake of anonymity, Betty.

In the beginning of this never-ending stint, I was incredibly naÃ.ïve. I could not foresee the quantity of shit that would eventually hit the fan. And to her credit, Betty was not as large an abomination at first. So, in happy ignorance, I spent time with her, calling her my best friend.

Then, a few years down the road, Betty had become gluttonous beyond my wildest dreams. Always finding excuses to eat at my house, always allotting herself portions the size of the solar system. Eventually, her greediness combined with her ambition began to affect me in other ways. She ended up stealing a job from me, and that was when I realized that it was not her love of food that should concern me, but her love of money. I started looking at her differently, noticing every wrong-doing she committed. As they grew more frequent and substantial, I grew less vocal/more passive.

Betty became more involved in school government and committees, and started looking at me like I was only an ape — there to provide comic relief. Her interests were always geared toward business, because that was what she felt had the most lucrative promise. When I would tell her that I wanted to be a writer, her smirk never faded. The condescension escalated until the very end of our friendship, and all the while, I was basically just tying myself to the train tracks waiting to hear her “toot! toot!” coming to run me over.

After graduation, my disillusioned friend asked me to write in her yearbook. Being that I could only lie to myself so much, I tried to write something that would resonate enough to pass the test, but not be heartfelt. I failed the test; she noticed and asked me to add more. A few months later, I ended our friendship, and to this day, I feel relieved in a way I never have before.

College is the best time to end such toxic friendships; take my word for it and do the same.

Reina Berger is a freshman English major. If you “toot” at her, she promises to stare at you disapprovingly.