Friends loved, Friends lost

This blog post pairs (bitter)sweetly with "Seven" by Taylor Swift.

I've loved and lost friends, none to death but mostly just to circumstance.

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I recently caught up with an old friend I hadn't seen in over four years. Like many friendships that fade due to circumstance and geographical distance, we succumbed to the tragedy that is silently following each other on Instagram but having no real contact or relationship outside of that. So, when a connecting flight out of London was cancelled, she found herself stuck in the city for the day, and DM'd me to see if I'd be free for dinner. It was the first time in years I’d heard from or seen her.

We met up at a place we had loved while studying abroad together. We stood in the queue, waiting for a table as we made small talk and laughed about various things. Once we were seated, time passed quickly and before we knew it, we were reliving all we'd experienced and endured throughout those years we hadn't stayed in touch. I was happy to catch up and be trusted with all the ups and downs I hadn't been there to witness first-hand. But I was sad because it was a reminder of how much I had missed out on. There was this inexplicable feeling that even this dinner filled with endless chatter and laughter would not restore what we had lost. Friendships can be mended, bridges can be rebuilt, but just because they can doesn't mean they will. It's not like we ever burned the bridge or needed to make any repairs, it was more that we just stopped crossing the bridge, we just stopped reaching out.

There are many friendships I no longer have despite how significant they were for a particular season in my life, like the friends I'd stay with for sleepovers every Friday night throughout middle school. Friends whose birthday parties I'd never miss. Friends I'd defend even if it landed me in the principal's office. Friends I spent many summers eating popsicles with on my front porch.

Why do good things have to end? I try to remember why these friendships that were once a lifeline weren't sustained. I could point a lot of fingers, some at myself and some at circumstance, but if I want to find comfort in the rubble of what was, I can find it in knowing all things have their season, and sometimes, a person was only meant to exist in your Winter and not your Spring.

Dinner soon came to a close. As I hugged this old friend goodbye, I had a hint of bittersweetness in my mouth, the kind that comes with knowing this friendship would never be what it was, but I would always have what it did. And what it (or rather she) did was allow me to cry when my brother passed away suddenly. She frolicked through Europe with me in the final days of our teens. She celebrated my acceptance into a postgraduate programme. She made me laugh. She made me feel included and wanted. I needed that friendship then, and I still cherish it now because of how loved it made me feel during that time of life.

I'd love to always be close with those I've considered dear friends, but it just doesn't really work out that way. And though I never say it, I am always rooting for these old friends from the sidelines. I still love and support them even if only from afar. I like to imagine we all have our own paths in this jungle we call life, and there are times when those paths merge and times when they diverge. Many paths never interwine with yours again, but you will forever be impacted by what they taught you when you were running together.

As I journeyed home alone, I reflected on what this friend had taught me. She'd taught me to say yes more, to take the opportunity for adventure every chance I got. She taught me that being yourself will always be more fulfilling than trying to be someone else. She taught me to dance in public and not care what people think. I'm still trying to learn some of these lessons, but I remember how she lived these out so well, and I'm just glad that for a brief moment in time, I got to witness it. And, no, we're not friends like we used to be, but what a comfort to know the bridge is still there and can be crossed whenever we want or need to.

So, consider this a confession of my longstanding love and support for all the friends I can no longer truly call a friend but still care for and am grateful to. Without you, who would I be? Thank you for everything you taught me.