To my dearest of friends,
I hope you are well. More than that, I hope you are happy. Whenever I think of you, I pray that you are in good company, and well taken care of.
I miss you beyond idle words, and I carry with me only our fondest memories. Every time I think of you, I think of our squirrel-face selfies, our ‘couple’ joke and how everyone made fun of us, or felt jealous of us, who knows.
I hear bits and pieces here and there, they highlight is that you’re safe, vivacious as always, and out there doing your thing. One or two good-intentioned friends had come up to me in the past years, and asked if they should get us talking. At first I said no out of pride, I could be stubborn sometimes, as you may well know. The more I thought of the events leading up to this, my no became justified: we didn’t need a third medium, you should find me if I there was anything to hash, anything I did that hurt you.
Months went by, I began to bump into you less and less; wedding season only lasts so long. I thought that “out of sight, out of mind” will work in my favor. My surprise was, it actually didn’t. There were days when you never left my mind. There were trips to plan but you were going on them. There were many times I picked up my phone to buzz you, but stopped because you were no longer a part of my life. And I could no longer share anything with you.
Going into my thirties, I know that parting ways with friends is a natural course of life. You grow up, you get busy, you choose different paths. There are more reasons that I could care to count. But I’d say, I’ve had a lot of them. I’d also say this: there were acquaintances, there were friends, and there was you.
You were so intimately special to me, that you were the one who broke my heart.
A year to date, I realized that parting with you was not just another friend disconnected. It was in every sense of the word, a breakup. I had been so attached to you, to the idea of that one true best friend, that certain company, the one who gets me, the person who matches both my crazy and my sane, the friend against whom all else pales. Little did I know, you’d live to also be the one who broke my heart.
That year was a rollercoaster of emotions, at least it seemed that way in the day-in day-out ordeals. But the reality of it was me going through stages of grief. Essentially, I was mourning your loss.
After shedding a whole layer of old, torn and worn skin, I’ve thankfully achieved deliverance. And it feels good to be here. To live through the losses, recognize the lessons learned, and accept it all for the logic behind it.
Only the ignorant repeat their mistakes, and mine was putting you on a pedestal. It was never your fault; you were there to teach me a lesson. Your timing could not have been more perfect. You walked out smoother than you had walked in. Now it all adds up. And for it all, I’m grateful.
WE SAID THIS: Thank you for always being my source of wisdom.
