Saturday, 29 September 2012
MISSING: My other half.
When I graduated high school, I had a best friend who I cherished above all. I easily ended my long-term relationship with a guy who I still cared for. I moved out of my mother's place without any homesickness. But, I could not fathom the idea of giving up the one person whom I loved more than anyone. In the year since then, I can honestly say she is not even on my radar as a friend anymore. Everyone always told me that friends from high school rarely last, but I really thought this was different. I guess everyone does.
Though I am reeling from the loss of someone who I genuinely loved being with and talking to, what really surprised me was a different side effect. When I lost my best friend, I lost an important part of myself. I never realized how much of my life I put into that friendship. It was composed of six years of firsts, joys, fears, angst, and memories. Therefore, in giving it more thought, it is no surprise that losing her so intimately bothers me. There is an important part of me that I left with her, something that I can never give to anyone else and never take back. She holds a fraction of my being rooted in a crucial time that is integral to who I am today. She was a part of me that I cannot replace.
I did not know how immense the effect of her walking out of my life was before August. In August, I experienced something that set my life off-kilter. I was broken in a way that cannot be explained to those who have not felt it. I lost my control, had my trust violated, and was forced to look at myself in a light that disgusted me. At that point, I needed my best friend. I needed the girl whom I skipped class to buy a pregnancy test for. I needed the girl whom I stood up for when others mocked her choice to date a girl. I needed the girl whose naughty secret about two boys in a tent I kept. I needed the one person whom I trusted completely and knew me better than anyone else.
It takes something drastic to illuminate the subtly growing holes in your life, but once that happens, it is impossible to shove them back into the dark. I wish I could ignore the absence, but it has become painfully apparent. Yet, the one thing that hurts above all else is that she let it happen. I tried to keep her, but she pushed me away. She found ways to avoid seeing or talking to me in the four months she was home over the summer semester, regardless of how many invitations I sent. Passive-aggressive behaviour was always her thing, so at least THAT has not changed.
Do you have a best friend?
Did you keep many of your friends from high school?