Someone who has played a defining role in my life over the past several years shared this article, today.
It spoke to me like nothing has in a very long time.
You see, the person who shared this used to be “the other girl in all MY selfies.” She was a best friend to me.
Now, it would be unfair and pretentious of me to assume that she was thinking of me when she shared it. I only knew her for a few short years. Surely, she had other best friends long before we became part of each others’ respective stories. And because she is a great person, I’m sure she has another best friend today. Still, certain aspects within that piece of writing resonated far too deeply in me to believe that the memories of our friendship didn’t cross her mind while she was reading it. I will swallow my pride if I’m out of line in making that assumption. Regardless, what I read affected me, undoubtedy even more so because she is the one that shared it. With that, and her, in mind, I would like to share an open letter of my own.
To the friend who I haven’t seen in a year, but will always have a place in my heart (and in my life):
I, too, still wish you the best. A year ago, when our story was at the last fork in the road and our lives led us onward in different directions, you had just reached a beautiful place. After what probably felt like an endless journey down what was often a dark and bumpy road, your detour came to an end. You had rediscovered true and reciprocal love. I was cheering for you then, when it was shiny and new, and I’m still cheering for you now that he has become home to you. I only wish that I had a chance to meet him, to see how happy you are together and share in your joy.
It wasn’t really a boy, or even that stupid argument that drove us apart. There are times when I replay that exchange between us, where we drove that wedge in deeply. “This isn’t about either one of us being wrong. I think we just have two very different ideas of what friendship means,” I said. “I agree,” you said. The metaphorical light at the intersection of our friendship turned green. You went one way; I went another. And that was it.
Only, for me it wasn’t. (I say it that way because I can’t speak for you, here.) This is where that article you shared moved me to tell you that I disagree so strongly with the finality in that author’s writing! She takes a spin on “a reason, a season, or a lifetime” and mentions that to her, friendships are either for a lifelong bond or a lesson.
Here’s my spin, if you’ll consider it. Maybe true friendships are more fluid than we have allowed ourselves to consider them to be. Maybe they can be all of the above- reasons, seasons, lifetimes, bonds, and lessons- just not consecutively.
There are a million reasons why I’m better as a person because I’ve had you by my side as a friend. Even so, there have been seasons where each of us has needed more than we could offer to one another. Perhaps instead of being hurt by that, we could just consider it part of the cycle of life. To quote my favorite poem:
“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul.”
It is true that as a season came to an end, we chose to travel different roads and grew apart. But who is to say that after seasons pass, our roads won’t converge once again, both of us wiser from lessons learned during time apart? Neither of us can predict the future any more than an old adage can determine whether or not we will have a lifelong bond.
More than anything, I want you to know that despite any impression you got from me, I don’t want our story to be over. You were more to me than a single season or lesson, and always will be. I will always speak kindly about you to my children. You were part of their lives, and they miss you, too.
Where we go, from here, I don’t know. I am thrilled that we’ve both grown enough, in ourselves, to exchange messages now and again. So many times, I’ve stopped just short of asking if you’d like to meet up to actually talk. Truth be told, I’m afraid, because the possibility exists that you might be happier at a distance-that I’ll make you feel awkward and place further strain on what relationship we do have.
Just please know that I didn’t address you in this letter as my “ex-best friend” for a reason. I still care, and I hope that somewhere deep down, we are still friends.
The girl in the other lawn chair on our lunch break.
One thought on “To a Person Who Will Always Have A Place In My Life”
Love this…makes me cry everytime. Makes me see how much of an impact one person can have and how strong friendship really can be.