You Were My Best Friend, But You Weren’t My Forever Friend

I guess I’ll just start this by saying I’m sorry for the way things ended. I wasn’t strong enough back then to coherently tell you how much effort it felt like I was putting in to be your friend, but I guess now is as good a time as any.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved being your best friend, but often I felt rejected. I felt like no matter how many times I tried to get my point across when we’d get into our biweekly arguments, I was rarely (if at all) understood. Before I even got the chance to tell you how I felt, you’d close off and shut me out, and that’s what hurt me the most.

You knew that the one way I felt defeated was by being ignored and you still shut me out because you didn’t care. You ignored me for days, even in person, without reassuring me that we’d be okay, and that was horrible. All I wanted was validation and all you could manage was a cold shoulder, which is just one of the many ways we clashed as friends.

I felt such a huge amount of self-inflicted pressure to make us work. I mean, we became friends so effortlessly. You were funny, genuine and just got me in ways no one else did, and ironically I thought because of the like-minded energies I had to force us to stay friends. We couldn’t outgrow each other. That just couldn’t be it. If we naturally came together it was meant to be life-long, right?

To be fair, I was the one who walked away, but it was for the better. No force of nature could allow our chaotic and wild friendship to work. I accepted that for what it was and just knew walking away was the only way to prevent more damage to both of us. I knew things were going on in your life that caused you to lash out so abruptly and knew I was just the unlucky person closest by who was mistaken as your punching bag, but I was tired of allowing that mistake to happen over and over.

I had to walk away, with no post-fight conversation, with no make ups or I’m-sorry’s because I knew if I didn’t, I’d cave. I’d apologize for something that wasn’t my fault, because it was easier than arguing, and we’d fall right back into our toxic pattern, which we had mastered so perfectly.

With all of this being said, I have to highlight it wasn’t just you, it was me too. I had no filter, no true reign on my emotions, and also lashed out. I’d say hurtful things, then try to take them back in an instant, and now understand the detrimental effects my words had on our friendship.

I’m sorry I was so hard on you.

We were meant to cross paths, but just weren’t destined to stay on the same one, and I’ve come to terms with that.

I also came to terms with the fact that best-friend breakups are 10 times harder than breakup-breakups. I mean, at least I’d still have someone there for me at the end of a relationship, but the only person that was there to comfort me through our friendship breakup was me, and the only thing that’d help was to hear you say, “I love you in case I die,” one more time.

You’re still witty, incredibly beautiful, and have the type of soul that can’t be burned out, which is your biggest strength. I want you to know that all of your secrets will die with me, as they should. Just because we are no longer friends doesn’t mean you don’t deserve unwavering love and unconditional kindness.

I want to end this by saying thank you for the good times and must admit I think a part of me will always miss you. Is it even okay to say that?

After promising our kids would grow side by side, after planning trips across this world (you moving to London and me living somewhere on the west coast), yet treating each other as if we’re strangers, unfamiliar to the thoughts we shared in your Jeep at 2 a.m., is it fair of me to say that I miss you?

I guess not. Regardless of it being fair, though, it’s true. No matter what, a part of will always miss you.

Maybe I don’t miss present you so much, given I don’t know her, but I will admit I miss the old you and the old us. I miss coming to your house every day before practice, lying in your bed while we tried to do statistics homework but instead gossiped about boys. I miss meeting up with you on campus and eating chicken tenders at 11 a.m. with not one ounce of shame. And more than anything, I miss laughing so hard that we’d genuinely collapse — your jokes are still incomparable.

At the end of it all, it has been said and done. I can’t go back, but don’t even know if I would if given the chance. I must go on, believing everything happens for a reason. You weren’t my forever friend, but you were close to it. I’ll hold on to the good memories and wish you nothing but the best — know I’d send this to you if I hadn’t convinced myself it’s too late.

Because a year ago, we’d drive so recklessly, music blasting, finding comfort in the words unspoken with smiles painted on our faces, and now I don’t even know if it’s okay to say I miss you out loud.