I remember the good times, the times when we were so happy together. We had sleepovers and fun dinners and hilarious game nights; you introduced me to Jane Austen books and BBC miniseries, now among my greatest loves, and we would talk all hours of the night about movies, Michael Landon, MBTI personality types, family ancestry, jewelry, fashion, and guys. You were so intelligent and sophisticated, I used to hang on your every word. You were my role model in college. I don’t know if I’d have gotten through those first few months without you.
I looked up to you so much. I considered you one of my best friends.
Then, that happened. I was shocked. I was so confused. Heck, I’m still confused. But especially then. Granted, I was young and naive, but this would have puzzled even the most sage and experienced of persons. From the very beginning, all the way to the ugly, cold aftermath, I was confused. Even after I realized and admitted my own contributing faults in the situation and tried my best to apologize, explain, make reparations, I still didn’t understand why it had to happen. Why we had to end.
Were you ever truly my friend?
Did you ever consider me a true friend, in the same way I saw you?
Why couldn’t we find some way to smooth our hurts and salvage the most precious bits of our relationship? We had a fighting chance. It should’ve been possible, but I guess it wasn’t enough of a priority to you. Or maybe I wasn’t enough of a priority. Were you relieved to leave me behind, cut me loose like a burdensome weight? Were we only fair-weather friends, keep me close as long as it suited you and let me go as soon as it became inconvenient?
Maybe I could’ve done more...I know I could’ve--should’ve done more to fix things. I’m so deeply sorry.
Do you know, every few months or so, I literally dream about us reconciling and becoming friends again? Even now, after years and years. In fact, I had one a few weeks ago. I dream that we’ve met again in some rosy, delicate, parallel world, our differences dissolved into nothingness, our connection forged strong once again. It’s never the same dream exactly, but it’s always a happy one.
I was heartbroken when you left. That feeling only grew as time went on. I felt...betrayed, in a way. Like a clean shirt that’s been lovingly worn for years, then, without warning, dropped into the gutter to be run over mercilessly by gritty tires. It still hurts to think of the friendship lost between us. The others, too, but you most of all. I wasn’t as close with them, but you and I...I don’t know. I thought what we had would be strong enough to last--no, it never even occurred to me that our friendship would ever crack and shatter. I thought we would be soul sisters forever.
Maybe you never saw me that way, but I did. I valued our friendship so much. Even now, so many years later, I miss you, your family, what we used to have together. What could have been.
The hurt has mostly faded into a nostalgic sadness, but I still miss you.
If I ever saw you again in person, I wouldn’t beg to be your friend again. Too much time has passed, we’ve both changed too much, I’m certain. Our paths have long-since diverged and grown distant.
I think I’d just have one desperate, mind-boggling question for you: