Goodbye, my old friend.

There was a time, a stretch of time in fact, when I thought no person or circumstance could ever separate us. We were two peas in a pod. We could read each other’s facial expressions, moods, and emojis without the need for all the extra words. We talked about our dreams together and made travel plans over coffee dates. We held each other through heartbreak and spent countless nights falling asleep in the same bed. Our inside jokes were infinite and we referred to each other as “my person”. You were the Christina to my Meredith. Until…. you weren’t. 

It didn’t happen all at once. It was a growing number of texts that went something like “We should get together soon”, but it never happened. Sending the invite without receiving a response was tiring and disappointing. My family would ask how you were doing and what you were up to, but I honestly didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know anymore. The friendship felt forced in ways it never did before. The resentment was growing, and it didn’t feel good. 

“What am I even fighting for?” I asked myself that question frequently. 

“It’s supposed to be a two way street, babe.” Tyler would remind me whenever I shared my hurt. Because it did. It hurt. The slow but steady breakdown of a disintegrating friendship hurt. Sure, I had other friendships that were growing, but you knew my history. You had loved me and our friendship so well. Losing that hurt.  But I knew exactly what would change if I sent another invitation:

Nothing. 

So, here we are. I’m married, living in my first home, and planning the wedding in which I always thought you’d be the maid of honor. We’re something more like acquaintances now than we were even when we first met. These days I turn to instagram when I want to know what you’re up to. You look so happy. I genuinely hope you’re happy. You deserve that. I still have love for all that used to be. I still look fondly upon the friendship we shared. We brought each other joy, security, honesty, and support. You were always a cheerleader for me, and I always challenged you to reach for more. You were amazing. You’re still amazing. That hasn’t changed. Your heart is still enormous. Your smile is still contagious. It looks like you’re falling in love now.  I’m so happy you’ve found your person. You deserve to be loved the way you so completely love others. It looks like your heart is full. That makes me happy. 

 I still think of you often. I wish you well. A lifelong friendship requires effort from both, and that just wasn’t there. As our lives continue to move in different directions, I hope you’re as grateful for the memories we shared as I will always be. Those days shaped me. Those days taught me to relax and embrace spontaneity. You’ll always be a bright spot in my story, and I thank you for all you did to remind me of who I am.  I’ll continue to watch your story unfold in the same way you do mine. We’ll reach a point when we’ll simply think of each other as somebody we used to know. Maybe we’ve already arrived there. Either way, the hurt will fade and life will continue to change. It doesn’t have to be a drama-filled, expletive laden heartbreak to be worthy of healing from. But we will heal and, as we do, I’ll remember one thing: you made me braver. 

For that I will always love you. Be well, my old friend. Be happy. Be brave.