I knew that people would come and go, venture into my life, and sashay out. I knew that not everyone would stick with me and that I’d meet people who would see me cry out for help, and still throw me off the cliff.
In the books I read, and in posters tacked on school hallways, it was the pain of losing a romantic partner that they warned us about. School counselors brought in classrooms to caution us about not losing ourselves in the wake of a breakup, how you, as a person are so much stronger and can be defined as more than just a girlfriend. How it is important to have a support system. What happens when your support system breaks?
Our bonds of friendship, I thought, were strong. They would not break, crack, or falter. We had seen each other through tears and pain, anger and joy. I noticed my friends growing distant from me, not responding to my texts, my smile. Sharing inside jokes but leaving me on the outside. I brushed it off. I was warned, my friends would leave me. That too, I brushed away. What did they know, I thought. I observed my friends as they would leave me behind as I ran behind them. But this distance, it was just a passing thing. We had so many memories together, we had stuck with each other. They wouldn’t, couldn’t leave me behind.
When the blow came, when I was left shattered on the ground, confused and hurt by those I had trusted, I was oblivious. I did not know what I had done, did not know that sometimes, you don’t need to have done anything. Sometimes people can cut you down and move along like it was nothing because for them, it was.
When all the books I had read and all the warnings I had received had focused only on romantic relationships, I was blindsided by my friendship breakup. How could I continue, how could I make new friends if the ones I had, the ones I trusted and loved had looked at me and deemed me unworthy? No one had told me how painful it was to have been stabbed in the back by the ones you’d trusted above all.
Some nights, I would cry. Safely under the covers of my bed, looking back upon our good memories. Most nights though, I was angry. I imagined storming up to them and demanding answers. Though I saw them every day in classes, I never spoke to them, nor them me. I learned to move on, to look at our friendship with not tears, but a bittersweet smile. I cherished my new friends, but I did not forget my old ones. Still, I remember, and still, I am sad. But now, I can also be glad that we had the time together that we had. Now, I can be happy that I am making new memories and living without them. Now I can say that I am better off without them, and I am a different person than who I was then, and I like myself better now.
Now, I know who I am.
