You need a best friend who loves you where you are most misunderstood so your wounds can blossom into spring. I hope you find a best friend who encourages you to be your fullest and most authentic self and admires the way you see existence in a unique and weird way. I hope you find a best friend who will always be by your side when you’re tormented by your depression and demons. I hope you find a best friend who truly wishes for your well-being and healing. It is my hope that you will find a best friend who will grow strong with you despite everything.
I am always reaching for your hand. It's not that I cannot walk on my own, but I find such comfort and warmth when I feel you near. Just looking at you infuses me with a joy that is hard to describe. Knowing I am not alone, should I stumble and fall, should I need a place to open my soul, a place for my tears, a place of release for my fears; your heart is the place I go for all that. I feel so safe with you that I can tell you everything without fear or doubt, and I love to know I can do that for you too. The blessing is to walk your own path, but knowing you are not far from the other, knowing I can open up and say with the utmost sincerity and trust, "I need you. I miss you. Please come," and the absolute certainty that you will be there, are priceless treasures that in my life I cherish.
Why wasn't friendship as good as a relationship? Why wasn't it even better? It was two people who remained together, day after day, bound not by sex or physical attraction or money or children or property, but only by the shared agreement to keep going, the mutual dedication to a union that could never be codified.
I wonder when exactly it happened. When the cracks in the foundation turned into something we could no longer bridge with words or actions. When we started doing the bare minimum for each other and felt like it was enough. It was kind of validating, wasn't it? Liberating, in a way. The occasional checking in, the questions that were asked without any real intentions behind them. The guilt that was lifted off our shoulders every time we decided to swallow our pride. How are you? Fine. What have you been up to? Not much, you? How's work? Okay. We didn't ask because we cared, not for the past months.
We were following routines, a play, a dance we knew every step to. Both of us ignoring the truth we'd understood a while ago: we're not what we used to be and we will never be that to each other again. And at some point, we just stopped asking altogether.
The more I think about it, the more I figure out that the breaking was no fixed point in time, but a process. There was no argument. No falling out - only the slow and painful realization that I‘d been wrapping my fingers around something that was long gone. A shadow. A memory. A ghost.
I know what I would answer if you reached out to me again.
How are you? Kind of sad. What have you been up to? Missing you and everything we used to be - what can we do to find our way back to each other?
But you don't ask. And I don't ask, either.
I hope you find a best friend who chooses to love the parts of you where you are most misunderstood so your wounds can blossom into spring. I hope you find a best friend who encourages you to be your fullest and most authentic self and admires the way you see existence in a unique and weird way. I hope you find a best friend who will always be by your side when you’re tormented by your depression and demons. I hope you find a best friend who truly wishes for your betterment and healing. I hope you find a best friend who will grow strong with you despite everything.
In my experience, making friends was never difficult - but I always had a hard time keeping them around.
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