Growing Up and Growing Apart
It’s been a while. I know we are both busy, but it’s a shame we haven’t worked harder to keep in touch. You cross my mind often and, in fact, the other day, I was thinking about all the inside jokes we used to share, the little secret sentences we would whisper to each other that would send us rolling on the floor, belly laughing until it hurt.
Growing up, through all the years of middle and high school and then eventually college, you were my rock. You lifted me up. You were the first person to tell me that you believed in me. You were there for every good time and bad. I will always be grateful for your unwavering friendship. You are my oldest friend, and, even though it was too easy for us to grow apart, you are still my closest confidant, the one I want to run to when times are bad.
For years, you were my everything. We were never one without the other. And as much as you were my rock, you were also my crutch. If we did anything, if we went to any party or hung out with cooler people, it was because you had the “in.” You knew more people and you put yourself out there, so I relied on you for a social life. I was too scared, too quiet, and too submissive as a friend. I admired your boldness and your fearlessness.
Now, we are older, two women just entering through the door of adulthood. We have watched each other become the people we are today. But growing up also means growing apart, which we have done our fair share of. I am no longer the timid little girl who needed you so badly, and you aren’t so fearless anymore.
Life got in the way as much as we promised each other that that would never happen. We got busier, had more important responsibilities, found our own lives apart from each other. I still keep up with you through social media, seeing your smile across my newsfeed brings me a familiar warmth, and I know you are just a phone call or a text away. I know that whenever we grab lunch, we will pick up exactly where we left off last.
However, it will never be the same. The conversation will be vaguer, trying to cram the highlights of the past year into an hour; all the jokes will be distant memories brought to mind with a “remember when;” the familiarity in our faces will have faded. We will leave other with a hug, saying “we should do this more often.”
I know, eventually, our irregular meetings will become nonexistent, but I will be forever thankful just knowing that what we had as best friends was magic. I couldn’t have done this without you.