When One Missed Call Becomes a Verdict

Some friendships don’t break with betrayal. 
They don’t end with conflict.
Sometimes, they simply wither under the weight of one unexamined belief.

Decades of friendship. Laughter. Loyalty. Conversations. Silence.
And then one missed call.

There was a day—one I don’t even remember clearly - when, he says, I didn’t answer his call. And perhaps I didn’t. Life may have caught me off guard, and I might have had my own reasons, though none of them were meant to hurt. I vaguely recall that he was scheduled for surgery the following week, and I had every intention of meeting him before that. It was raining heavily that day, and amidst personal priorities and a rushing mind, I just couldn’t make it. I wish I remembered the exact sequence better. But what I do remember - with complete clarity - is everything I did afterward.

I called. Many times.
I sent messages. Wishes. Voice notes.
Not out of guilt, not out of compulsion—but out of care.

No response.

Yesterday, after all this time, I saw him. I smiled, and I spoke.
He didn’t.


His words cut—not because they were loud, but because they were laced with cold conviction.

“If someone doesn’t answer my call, I feel ignored. And if I feel ignored, I hate them. That’s how I am. That’s my discipline.”

I stood there, holding silence in one hand and reason in the other.
I asked gently, “What about the calls I made? The messages I sent after?”
There was no answer. Only more righteousness.
As the decision had already been made.
And one missed call was enough to erase eighteen years.

Later during the evening, I settled and started thinking of the ‘Birthplace of Stupidity’ & ‘Emotional Absolutism’.

There’s a kind of foolishness that doesn’t shout.
It hides behind labels like discipline, principle, self-respect.
It doesn’t examine. It just concludes.

This is what I call emotional absolutism - a rigid belief system where a single incident becomes the full story.
Where one missed moment of imperfection becomes a verdict.

In such minds, there is no room for grace. No elasticity of thought.
Only binary definitions - 
Answer me or you don’t care.
Miss my call, and you’re out.
Fall short once, and you’re unworthy.

They don’t question why they feel ignored and are they drooling under assumptions!
They don’t examine how their beliefs were formed!
They don’t revisit the memory with compassion.!
They simply rationalize their withdrawal—and call it discipline.

A positive label of discipline to protect their ego, to avoid admitting they might be wrong or overly sensitive, to feel powerful is indeed a rationalized rigidity.

I wondered why people choose this route when there are so many easy ones –

Because it’s easier to hate than to hurt.
It’s easier to hold a grudge than to hold a conversation.
It’s easier to rewrite the story than to face vulnerability.

And perhaps, for many, it’s a hidden ego defense: If I pretend, I don't care, I won't feel the ache of being cared for imperfectly.
If I reject first, I won't feel the sting of perceived rejection.

So instead of repairing, they retreat.
Instead of letting go, they form phony rules.
Instead of reconnecting, they redraw boundaries—on paper that once held deep trust.

When One Incident Becomes Everything - It’s precarious! - this tendency to let one moment, one missed call, one forgotten word, one argument, one misunderstanding, define the depth of a relationship.

I can quote many instances where in - 

·         A friend stops talking over a misunderstood message.

·         A partner walks away after one argument.

·         A parent condemns a child over one mistake.

All because someone made their hurt a law, and expected the world to obey.

They forget—relationships are not courtrooms.
They are not places for judgments or penalties.
They are living, breathing entities—where imperfection isn’t just inevitable, it’s essential.

The Lesson I’ve Learnt - There would always be a hidden face of an individual which you will get to know one day. 

I don’t chase. I don’t compel.
I don’t demand to be heard.
Because any relationship that needs to be persuaded - is already gasping.

But I do believe in sorting things out.
I believe in grace, in the benefit of doubt, in mature conversations.
I believe in second chances, when the foundation is strong.

Yet, I’ve learned a deeper truth: You can’t reason with someone so consumed by their own narrative - so fixated on being right—that they’ve gone blind to everything else. When a person is emotionally invested in their version of the story, even truth becomes unwelcome. They’ll ignore facts, dismiss intentions, and sacrifice connection - all just to protect the fragile illusion of being justified. Even if it costs them their peace, their relationships, even their own dignity - they’d rather hold onto blame than face balance.

You can’t force growth in someone who worships their own beliefs more than shared humanity.
And you can’t sustain a bond where ego becomes the gatekeeper.

A Note to all who is reading this -

The next time someone misses your call or they missed to call back — pause!
Next time when some one did not reply in line with your expectations - hold on!
Ask yourself: Am I judging years by just one day and an incident?
Am I letting one moment erase a history of care and shared values?

And if you’ve been on the receiving end of such treatment - let this remind you:

Their silence says more about their wounds than your worth.

“Some people don't grow cold because they were ignored. They grow cold because they confuse discipline with emotional absolutism. And that is not strength - it is simply unhealed hurt trying to look powerful.”

Forgive, if you must. Walk away, if you must.
But never let someone else’s narrow lens shrink your heart or your perspective.

Because maturity lies not in perfection, but in the ability to examine, expand, and empathize.