Losing a Friend
Dear Dad,
I feel as though I've lost a lot of friends in my life thus far. Not in the sense of death or grievance, but through distance and the business that comes with the phases of life. Unfortunately, this trend has become common for me, being the homebody I am and the introverted hole I crawl back into once home from school.
You've recognized by now the constant prayers I send for those who I don't keep in touch with anymore, or the ones I used to call best friends that have started new chapters of their lives. But don't misinterpret the fact that I do still tend to check in with some who kindly reciprocate the want to catch up.
And sure, I will never doubt that the people I've met since starting my new chapter in college have already made a bigger impact in my life versus some of those I grew up going to grade school with. Despite this though, I will always advocate for checking in on my past and revisiting those who made me into who I am today.
Amongst these occasional interactions I've been having with hometown friends since being home, I can't help but think about one friendship in particular which I question the way in which it faded away so organically yet abruptly.
Despite the ability of friendships having their ups and downs, in addition to the "times of season" where either individual can't see each other as often, there was always this underlying feeling that my friend & I could come back to each other. It was an interesting dynamic to say the least, as sisterly companions that did so much together but also respected each others' spaces when we needed it. You are quite familiar with this friend, dad, and also tended to recognize how this style of connection we had was quite odd at times but worked—which is all that mattered for two grade-school to teenage girls.
But what changed? With that, I'm not so sure. I guess I was never certain whether or not this trend of running back to each other to hang out like no time ever passed would continue into college, but I was definitely not certain that the slow, gradual shift in not seeing them at all would cause such curiosity and wonder. The memories that have been flowing in within the past couple of weeks have given me the urge to try and reach out just one more time, but resort to the mindset that what's gone is gone.
It seems like a sad and negative mentality, but for the best after thinking through how the friendship really felt in times when I needed help the most. In other words, a lot of it felt one-sided, although I would never place any blame being that teenage girls are simply and complicatingly (new word yay) just—teenage girls. So why does a part of me feel lost when I look back at pictures and memories? A part of my upbringing and childhood does feel permanently gone, yes, but so does the person.
Never would I relate a situation like distancing from a friend to something like a death or that of a similar loss. But in a way, the laughs, tears, and smiles that seem like now a past life with you, dad, now feel the same with who I once knew as my best friend. The person I told everything to, travelled around with, and leaned on when my world felt like it was crumbling apart without you. What feels like yesterday is now officially sealed and in the past.
Even when it seems like it can't, life goes on.
Lauren M. Tauber
