Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
I’ve been dreading this one since the beginning. I seriously considered not doing it. I thought about writing that there was “No one!!!” and I thought about making some bullshit up. But alas, that’s not what this is about and though it’s hard, here we go.
My best friend.
I mean, my bestest friend.
Don’t you hate that cliche girl who got married and had kids and is, like, so busy and never calls or goes out anymore? Yeah. Except, I am her.
I met Amanda when I was four. 25 years ago. We were inseperable until I was 12 and she moved to Ontario. Except we kept in touch. Long before emails, we wrote letters to each other, and visited every summer.
Once the internet came into play, we talked for hours and hours online. Via email and good ol’ ICQ.
Through junior high, through high school, through university, she was my safe place. But then I got pregnant and my focus shifted and then I had a baby, like a real live personwhatthefuck! that I had to take care of and then oooohhhh!! I got engaged and was getting MARRIED.
She was my maid of honour (of course). A few months before the wedding, she was diagnosed with diabetes. A few weeks after the wedding, she went on anti-depressants. And then, maybe, that’s when it started to falter. Or maybe she would say it was before.
We still visit each other every 12-18 months (she still lives in Ontario). We talked about the rift last year. I admitted that I hadn’t been there when she needed me; she agreed with me. I went to visit last February and it was great. We got drunk and laughed and talked and got tattoos together.
She’s in the middle of a difficult journey, one that’s not really mine to tell. And she’s on it alone. Because she has to be, or because she believes she has to be, I’m not sure. And I can watch from the sidelines and cheer when I can. But my life it still busy and demanding, and I don’t cheer as much as I should. Or maybe as loudly.
Sometimes I think I’ve lost her, lost the girl I used to know. The one that would laugh with me, for hours, over nothing. Because, you see, it’s been longer than I can remember that we sat and laughed for no good reason. Sometimes I blame the depression, sometimes I blame myself.
But there you have it.