It's so funny how things change. People change. Friendships change. And we can't do anything about it. We can try so hard, we can say all the right things, we can say so many words, but change is irreversible. Maturation can't be halted. Time can't be convinced to stand still. Every second that passes, we're changing. Growing. Maturing. We can't possibly be like "hey stop that, let's just stay exactly the same as we are now."
And as people change, friendships change too. We have to adjust our friendships to fit these strange new people that are within them. And sometimes we make mistakes; once we grow so close to each other that we feel comfortable saying anything, some hurtful things can be sad, some hurtful things done. And then even though this friendship has been around all my life, its always been something I can count on, it's fragile and these careless words can break them. Did break them. And suddenly, I don't even know her anymore, she doesn't know me. Who cares that we've been best friends for years? Suddenly we're strangers.
And I could have sworn just six months ago that this girl would be my best friend forever. That we would live next to each other, go to the same college, have kids at the same time so they could be best friends, visit each other every day, have our husbands be best friends. And all of sudden, she's gone from my life, just like that. Doesn't all this history have something to say, some pull to bring in reviving this friendship? It feels like it's dead, and no matter how vivid it was when it was alive, it can't be woken.
Life's a strange thing. And since she's probably reading this anyway, I'm going to share some pictures of my best friend. I don't care if we aren't talking anymore, or if we are ever going to talk again, but she was the best friend I've ever had and probably ever will have. She knew me better than I knew myself. That might be a cliche saying, but it was 100% true for me and her. My family was her family, her family was my family. I'd walk into her house, say hey to her mom, and open the fridge. And I miss that.