Done with A

So, what started out as a small poem turned out to be a bit more than that until it completely became a larger rant born out of frustration.

Let's begin, then.
 

A while back I was coming close to the end of my patience and understanding for an acquaintance who thought we were friends. I'd say we were, at most, pals, buddies, but not friends. Not in the meaning I give to the word.

And, this person, we'll call them A, was - and still is, it seems - very poor at taking hints.

I've met A through some other friends and, at first, it was reasonable to meet and chat, given the fact that we usually were in larger groups when meeting and would only socialise at a closer stance later on.
I was never really interested in A. While it was a change of pace to get to chat with A and another friend at A's home over coffee on the weekends, it wasn't something I would miss if gone from my schedule.
There were things that any curious person to meet others would be of, and I mean here about meeting new types of people, seeing them interact with others, their perspective on various things and so on. And this was what made me accept A's invites to a chat over a hot cup of coffee. There were many things we weren't agreeing on but I never wanted to judge and dismiss a person just because some differences in opinions about life. I would always try to see things from other people's perspective; I'm not saying I would succed or that I am so sort of perfect human being, but I would always, at least, try.
At some point, the person who introduced us left the picture ending their relationship with A. Without telling A a single word, they just ceased all contact (I would come to see that their actions were smart and well executed). I was left to pick up the pieces, so to say. Not wanting to bring unwanted misunderstandings or cause hurt, I would stay away from this subject even though I would, every time without a doubt, be asked about (let's call that person B) B. I would stir away from this uncomfortable situation and ask A not to bring it up again. I would miserably fail each and every time. A would not give up.

Somewhere, among the many times we'd meet, A would always ask about B and I would grow intensely more uncomfortable with A's issues but, feeling bad for how B dealt with the situation and leaving me to pick up the pieces, it was hard for me to break it off with A as well. I felt constrained (and I know now that it might've been so much better had I ended it sooner, nip it in the bud as they say) to meet with A, seeing as how we'd, by now, known each other for a few years without becoming friends still.

At some point A tried becoming the dominant in our relationship (again, we weren't involved romantically, nor in any other way - we were acquaintances) and would demand we meet on a weekly basis. Had A's requests not been met, I would be asked for explanations and I'd be put "in my place".
Just because I didn't get invested in this relationship, did not mean I would let A have the ruling word. I can see, though, why A might've mistook my actions and act as such.

I'm not, by any means, judging here. I'm merely saying that A and I were not a match, we were not compatible, we wouldn't click and so on. Everyone is free to be whomever and however they want. That is not my issue here.

I started to grow tired and frustrated and my stomach would turn into a knot when I'd think I have to meet A. Even now, as I write this, I still have that feeling.
I can't really put my finger onto the reason I'm feeling this way. There isn't one reason alone for my reaction to A. I'd say it's the result of many situations gathering, slowly, one by one and coming up as a whole that would eventually feel like a glass that's about to spill.

And spill it did.

It all culminated with A scolding me for not being able to meet when A wanted even though I had excused myself explaining that I did say in advance that we, most probably, wouldn't be able to meet and also a personal issue had prevented me from doing so. This was outrageous to A.
And that was when my cup spilled all it had inside.

I had enough. I would not reply to A's calls and messages anymore. I was done. For me it was over.
This relationship was over. It was over before it started. I wasn't even feeling bad anymore.
All the things I tried to ignore and accept A came to surface and it felt good to know I don't have to explain and excuse myself anymore for being who I was.

It seemed A got the message as well.

For over a year and a half, I got only a text on my birthday (after which I blocked A's number).

But, for some reason, A came back.

An odd phone call from an unknown number (and I do have to pick up when an unknown number calls due to work related situations) would bring A back into my life.

I was quite shocked and tried to be polite by engaging in a conversation (I couldn't be bluntly honest or seem rude since A had just told me how horrendous of a week has been and how horrible A was feeling). But, after telling A I was busy and would prefer to have this conversation at a later time, A ignored my request and continued on with the conversation, telling me all that happened since we had last seen each other.

And it all came back. But this time, with a rage I didn't know I was capable of.

How is it that one can't take a hint?!? I haven't contacted A in over a year. They say that if and when you want to meet a person, you make time for them no matter how busy you are; there's always a spot for them if you're willing to.

I don't even think it's necessary to say that I was, once again, scolded for not being able to meet (as if we only saw each other last week) when A wanted and asked promptly when I'd be available again so that we can mark a date.

Even if I said I was busy, A would still call.

What made me write this rant now is, most probably, my overflown, ready to spill (yet again) cup (should just break that damned cup already).
What to do now? I did reply to the many calls I got with a polite message saying that I was busy and I'll eventually get to A when I'd have time.

I wonder if A got the hint this time around.
I wonder what awaits me.

P.S: No, she didn't get the hint.
At the time I'm posting this, A has called me again, after I sent her the text message that I'll be contacting her when I'll have the time. She went ahead to tell me that she tried calling me several times with both numbers she owns (she called me this time from a third number I didn't have saved) but everytime she tried, the line was busy.
 Now, any normal person would catch the drift and by putting the pieces together, would figure out the general image of the puzzle... Not A, sadly.
I do have to admire her perseverance, though. I, personally would've given up a long time ago.

P.P.S: Months later, I got another call from A. And, after texting her that I wish we would stop all interactions, A asked me why I would desire that since all seemed well during our previous conversations. I don't even know if I should congratulate myself for being so diplomatic and nice that A would not get the hint or to be upset that she would just not quit. After such a long time of no interaction of any kind how could one person assume they're still friends with the other? A friendship requires (in my book) frequent interaction and at least a minimal set of common interests. A wants to know the reasons for my request... I have not yet replied to A and I don't know if I ever will... 

I now think that this is the kind of relationship that would not really go well as a book subject. A would either come off as a villain or victim and I would come across as either weak or cold hearted and mean. How would one go about writing and presenting such a topic in such a light that would manage to convey the real story and feelings that came with it?