"This is it, boys, this is war. What are we waiting for? Why don't we break the rules already? I was never one to believe the hype. Save that for the black and white. I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked..."
- Fun. "Some Nights"
The bad part about having a job that allows you to do homework at work is that, when you don't feel like doing homework, you have all of this time to think about everything else. For those of you who know me and have followed this blog for a while, I think too much. And that leads to long blog entries about senseless things. Sometimes, I look back at those particular entries, and I cringe a little. In word form, I'm dramatic. I'm a writer at heart - dramatic kind of comes with the territory. Not just anyone can kill off characters in their books - it takes flair! Haha. But that's besides the point.
Have you ever thought about your friends? Like, really thought about them? What makes certain people stay in your life when others repeatedly leave?
I don't think I'm bragging when I say I have a lot of friends. I've been in four weddings, and have a fifth coming up next month. I'm one of those people who molds to those around them. It's easy for me to get along with everyone, which is probably why I find going to parties where I will have to talk to a bunch of strangers exhausting. Because I know they're not going to hate me from the start, so I will have to be friendly, and nice, and that's tiring. But again, I digress. My point is, I've always (unless you count middle school, which is probably where I learned my molding tricks of the trade) made friends easily. But I have trouble keeping them. And I can't figure out why.
It's been haunting me for a little over a month. A girl - let's call her The Singer - who I considered to be my best friend my freshmen and sophomore years of college got married a little over a month ago. It was quick - they met, they fell in love, they got married, all in four months. I did everything I could think of to get in contact with her. I congratulated her on Facebook, I texted her, I sent her a card and a letter, updating her on my life and asking about hers. And do you know what I've heard back? Nothing. She sent me her address, I guess, so that counts. But nothing of substance. I spent more nights laying on the carpet in her dorm room than anywhere else that first year of college. We ate most of our meals together. We bonded quickly. I remember it being so much fun. But now... I don't know. Did I change? Was it something that I did? I've been worrying it up and down for a long, long time. Because I miss her. I miss her deeply and often. Losing a friend hurts just as much as losing a love, if you think about it.
I've obviously made other friends in the time that has passed between. And I've lost others. But there is something striking about that particular example. I have some really great friends from college. I do. And I love and cherish them, and enjoy keeping in touch with them. But none of them are her. The people I consider myself to be close to from college I met mostly post-J. I've decided that's what I'm going to call the melancholy I experienced after breaking up with my ex my senior year of college. Post-J. Anyways, all of the memories I have from pre-J have The Singer in them. And while I needed to grow and learn and experience things, I miss that part of my life. I miss... her. That's just it. I miss her.
I can't decide if it's worse when you don't know why they've stopped caring for you as much as you cared for them, or if you know why. The other poignant example that comes to mind is L. I met L through one of my roommates in my senior spring semester - definitely post-J, to the point where I had finally figured out who I was. I was funny and I cared for people and I was smart. L and I became friends because we were kind of forced together, in a way. L had a thing for my roommate, you see. And I loved my roommate, but I knew that she was hung up on her ex (who she is now married to, for the record). And I'm a nurturer. So I third-wheeled it as often as possible, because I knew she was leading him on, and that made me feel bad for both of them. Anyways. Long story short, something happened in that time. I fell for L. Obviously, because my life is a romantic comedy starring Jennifer Lopez and Matthew McConaughey. So, then we graduated, and summer happened, and L was looking for a job while I was preparing to go to graduate school in North Carolina. And I did the stupidest thing possible. I told him that I had feelings for him.
Why? Why did I do that? We were decent friends, he was a cool guy, and engineer, an awesome ultimate frisbee player, a lover of folksy music. And I went and ruined it. He said he was fine, that the things I said didn't matter, but after the summer ended and I moved, we lost touch. Almost completely. I wished him a happy birthday last spring, but I think that is the only time I've talked to him this year. Obviously, I don't feel for him like I used to - I am very happy with my boyfriend, who possesses many of the qualities I found endearing in L, but with the added bonuses of communicating well with me and wanting to start a life with me. And loving me unconditionally, even with all of my inherent flaws. But still, I mourn the loss of the friendship that could have been great, because we were two intelligent people who had a lot in common. I beat myself up for this at random times. Who's to say what would have happened if I could have kept my overly-dramatic fingers away from the computer keyboard. And sadly, now I will never know.
What is the point of all of this? I don't know. If you were reading this for a moral at the end, I'm sorry, but you're not going to get one. It was one of those days where I was just sitting at work, reminiscing about the friends that I had and somehow pushed away and lost. I have great friends. I know this. And I appreciate the kind words that my true friends have shared with me when I've opened up about losing other friends. They tell me that it's the other people's losses. I know these people have the best of intentions in mind, but sometimes, that makes it hurt worse. Is it really their loss? And if it is, then why do I get so sad when I realize that it had to have been something to do with me that made them change their minds about our friendship in the first place?
I miss The Singer, especially when anything related to High School Musical is referenced, and when I listen to Anberlin or hear a joke that would be particularly funny to a fellow half-Mexican. When I see the flying squirrels on the Hope College Class of 2011 frisbees, I think of L, and when I hear Katy Perry's song "Firework." These are memories that I don't have to let go of, but I should. Right? Why keep them?
Clean breaks were never my strong suit.
Sorry to leave you without a happy ending on this dreary fall day. I'm going to spend the weekend in South Dakota, playing with my boyfriend's puppy and running my last long run before starting a mini-taper leading up to the half marathon I'm racing in later in the month. And I'm going to try not to think about the lost friends from earlier in my life. Even when it hurts. Because today, it's hurting.
