To All The Friends I've Loved Before: 01
To All The Friends I've Loved Before: 01
A collection of unsaid promises to the people who have meant the most. Starting with you.
To All The Friends I’ve Loved Before is a collection of unsaid promises to the people who have meant the most. The friends I’ve lost, the relationships I’ve ruined, the unspoken words between two people who never had a chance.
When I heard the news, my heart stopped. Not because I was worried or even because you were hurting, though of course, those things were part of it. They’re always part of it.
It’s because you didn’t tell me.
And these days that’s not uncommon. But there was a time when it would have been unheard of. When my world would have shattered at the same moment as yours and we would have cried about it together and you’d have let me be there for you.
But this is not that world.
And this isn’t the first time.
I wish I could go back to the moment I felt it slipping away. That there was something I could do to stop it. But the truth is, I didn’t know. I was wrapped up in the newness of my relationship, you were cozied up in the confines of yours. It’s the progression of things, isn’t it? We always said we understood.
So it didn’t seem unusual when the texts became less frequent or the missed calls piled up. We never were good at hanging out, anyway.
There was no fight. No major life shift. Nothing to alert me to the changes that were happening. It just slipped away. Slow and murky, until one day it was barely visible and I was hunched over my keyboard crying and you were…? I don’t know. I bet you didn’t even think twice about it.
If I’d have known that I’d one day trade my complaints about a month-long lapse in communication for what’s now a three to six-month wait time well, I might have done something differently then too.
But I can’t.
And I don’t know what I’d do anyway.
Ask you to be there? I tried that.
Tell you I miss you? So many times.
Put all my pride aside and say it hurts? Would it matter?
I don’t know what else to do.
In the end, maybe this is just the fate of friendships that start in your 20s and claw their way into your 30s. You move from one life stage to the next and somewhere along the way, you forget to tell the other person. You neglect to bring them along.
I know I’ve left so many people behind that I would do anything to reconnect with.
I’m sorry. I miss you all.
It’s not the first time. Probably it won’t be the last. But it hurts more this time. I tried harder. I fought so much longer. I’m still trying, I think. Every month that goes by with no response I think, “This is it. I’m done, I can’t do this.”
But then you text, and there’s no malice, and it’s kind if not scattered, full of your own pain If not oblivious to mine. It’s a shadow of what we once were, but, it’s still something.
So I think ok, maybe one more time.
One more month where I pretend it’s ok that we never talk. Two more months where you know nothing of my life and I try to find my way back into yours. Three more months of realizing we aren’t the same people we were at twenty-five. Four more months of asking “How are they?” and ending it, “I miss you.”
You don’t say it back.
One day, maybe.
Until then, the clock resets and we’re at day three since my last text.
I wish you’d just let me be there for you.
Maybe this time will be different.
To All The Friends I’ve Loved Before is a collection of unsaid promises to the people who have meant the most. The friends I’ve lost, the relationships I’ve ruined, the unspoken words between two people who never had a chance. If you see yourself in these words, please reach out. You never know.