I’m lucky to have experienced incredible long-term friendships—people from high school, college, camps, travel, different places I’ve lived, who I know are there for me, no heads-up needed. If I say I need to talk, they will pick up the phone immediately. If we’re in the same place, it’s like no time has passed.
Really. No time. Do I know you from my awkward elementary/middle/high school days? For you, the awkwardness will still be there.
(Oh, who am I kidding? The awkwardness is still there because I’m still there.)
These people are my root system. They help me feel stable on this inherently uncertain adventure.
I’ve had other friendships, too. Friendships confined to particular settings or periods of time, that ended when someone stopped reaching out or when someone else stopped responding, but that were wonderfully nourishing until then. Friendships that it may be possible to pick back up in the future, but we’ll probably never find out, because some mystery has to remain in the world.
Maybe we lived together or did homework together or shared office space—and also talked about plans for the future. Maybe we helped each other learn to talk to new people—and recover from rebuffed attempts at friendship and romance. Maybe we explored new spaces together. Maybe we stayed up late to talk about life. Repeatedly. Maybe we helped each other feel at home in a new place. Maybe we danced together regularly and developed a reputation for making silly faces when we were focused.
For a time, we were present with each other. We could rely on each other to the days a little bit easier, a little bit brighter. A little bit more connected.
In high school, I had a close friend who was—and I’m willing to bet still still is—a marvelous human being. She was warm and positive, silly and intelligent, creative and patient. And I was lucky to have had her as a friend.
We shared both interesting and frustrating teachers. We went to movies together and watched many more at home. We danced at concerts and school dances… and, you know, any place that had floors. We attended plays at school and at local theaters. We met each other’s friends. We saw each other through early romantic relationships and shifting home lives. And we played so, so, so many board games.
I thought of her a few weeks ago when “Safety Dance” came on the radio, not because I remember hearing it with her but because the feeling of that song, the silliness you feel when dancing to it, is the same joyful feeling I remember sharing with her for years.
My favorite memory is from the latter years of our friendship. I was not at my best, recently out of a relationship and in need of support. And she was there.
We went to dinner at a local shopping center. Ate outside under the awning. Caught each other up on life. I’m not sure how much I cried, but… I’m pretty sure I cried.
And then we were laughing.
When it came time to decide whether we were having dessert or not, the skies opened up. It began thunder storming.
So we ordered dessert. We stayed under the awning. And we talked some more, enjoying our time together.
The last time* we saw each other was about a year later. Since then, we’ve only been in sporadic email contact.
And I am lucky to have had her as a friend.
* So far! Mysterious world, remember.
If reading this makes you think of something precious you gained from a former friendship, please comment below and share. Let’s help each other better notice and appreciate the good in this life.
This Glass Has Water 