Breaking up is hard to do…

Sometimes, out of nowhere, I am punched in the gut with nostalgia. This week it happened while perusing Offbeat Home & Life’s daily offerings and I cam across the article: Exploring the very painful world of friendship breakups. I could barely read the title before I was bombarded with a rush of memories. There was Peter Pan in the park, laying awake and watching the starts in her pickup truck while we overlooked our college town, and long long loooong talks after church on the green couch in the intern room. There were Survivor Nights and Bible Studies and many talks of demons and the perfect boyfriend and family drama and Narnia.

She was my best friend.

After college we both moved away and life happened. The first year we talked all the time, even racking up a 1,000 roaming phone bill while I lived in New York for a summer, and made all sorts of wonderful plans about our future as friends. And then, we stopped talking.

It probably wasn’t that dramatic, because, she was in my wedding, and then I was in hers. But weekly phone-calls turned to monthly turned to every six months. My heart felt broken in a way that a man has never done. It was this ache for a friendship love that I cannot accurately describe. And, without Facebook, I don’t think I’d know anything about her life. But, it’s not for a lack of trying.

When I tell people about this soulmate-friend, because that’s how it feels, they always question why I don’t call her. And I say, “I did, for a long time,” and it’s true. I called. I called and called and left messages. I waited months and then called again. And, at some point, I need to have reciprocity. Despite my anguish over her not being in my life, I cannot simply spend my energy on a one-sided relationship. I can’t. I don’t know what went wrong between the two of us, if anything, or if time and distance and life have just gotten in the way, so I don’t blame her or myself for the brokenness. But I am sad, nonetheless about the absence of her friendship in my life. And I want to tell her:

Dear Lewis-

Let’s be friends again like old times?



  1. Isn’t it weird how friendships change as we age? I don’t have any “Sex in the City” friends anymore. . . all my friends are other moms who are super polite and tread lightly around all of the crazy, drunken, spicy things that used to be daily conversation. How did that happen? This post makes me remember my “best” friend from high school who was actually totally cruel and sadistic to me and who gave me self-esteem issues that I still have 20 years later. . . so I guess I am glad that we broke up. Siiiggghhh. . . Well, it is food for thought. šŸ™‚ I’m enjoying your blog, girl!

    • THANKS!

      Yeah, another post for another day is MY high school BFF who turned people against me, convinced me I was stupid, and I initiated the breakup a few days after graduation. We lived in the same dorm in college and I still see her sad little life on Facebook. Some things never change, though a twinge of…regret?…on how I handled THAT breakup, too.

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