Tag: friendship

If.

If you were here, I’d come pick you up at 1:30 am.

We would stop at McDonald’s and pick up all the food and drinks that are the worst.

I’d put on a playlist that I made that night. It would be filled with all of our favorite songs at the moment. Sometimes I would sing lead and you would sing back-up and then we would trade places.

I would look over at you and see that you are hanging halfway out of the window taking in the summer breeze that only happens at night. You’d be sipping your soda and a bug would hit your face while we are speeding down the highway to the airport. You’d erupt in a big cloud mixed with spitting and cuss words.

We are coming up to our destination. My secret place. One of the main reasons my car runs out of gas quickly.

The airport.

The lights. The breeze. The air. The sounds.

We take it all in.

The music is still playing, but we are no longer singing.

Here, conversation doesn’t have to take place. We are both sifting through our own demons. And this place calms us.

People are leaving. People are coming back. And although physically we are not on any of those planes – I see our souls rise up into the night sky and make things right.

We will always have these memories. And even when their warmth is no longer able to sustain our friendship – we know that those two young women are still alive somewhere in this universe.

A touch. A whisper. A scream. A cry. A moment. A feeling.

Fleeting.

In this moment, I am still aware that we are going to separate soon.

That you will move away and things won’t be the same. That someone else will get to hug you and see the way your face lights up for Pepsi and hot Cheetos – even though you know they make you break out. That someone else will learn all of your faces, different laughs, and words you’ve made up.

Someone else will be your friend. They will learn to love you. They will learn your ways.

-S.

As Deep as the Ocean.

My heart is heavy tonight because I realize that it may never happen again.

Not that I want it to, but I may never find another connection like the one that I have with my best friend who moved away.

Not that I’m searching, but we live in that kind of society now.

Maybe it’s the generation that I am a part of.

I went out to eat with someone today – which I don’t do often these days – and they seemed so disinterested in what I had to say.

I’d say things that I’d tell her.

I’d refer to things that she would know.

Only to find out what I already knew – that this person wasn’t her.

We like superficial things now. We interact with people at work. We interact with people at school. We interact with people at the grocery store. We interact with people at the drive-thru. But anything more than this – is simply too much for you to ask us to do.

It’s too deep.

Depth scares us.

If there is no depth, it’s easier for you to rid yourself of that person.

It breaks my heart that lifetime friendships are a rarity in this day and age.

We meet seasonal people – over and over again.

We all search for it.

Connections.

Our Heart – Our Soul – Our Spirit – Our Mind.

They all yearn to be connected to something. Not necessarily romantic in nature. But just simply the comfort of knowing that one day you might not have a god damn thing to say or won’t know how to say what you need to say and that person will understand completely.

For generations to come, I wish you friendships with the depth of an ocean.

–S.

Nothing Mattered.

I want you to know that the nights we spent with outfits too short for our own good, dried up alcohol on our bodies from random strangers stumbling around the bar, sweaty hair, and cigarette smelling clothes are nights that I will never forget.

On those nights – we owned the town.

Two girls holding hands walking barefoot with their heels in their hands starting up at the skyscrapers of the city.

The whole city was lit up with neon signs, the moon, and the stars.

Nothing mattered on those nights.

Not whose heart was broken.

Not what college paper was waiting to be written.

Not what family or friend drama was developing.

Not that there was a work shift coming in the morning.

–S.

Beginning Again.

An excerpt from a letter that I wrote years ago to my then best-friend who went into the Air Force.

I asked your mom for your address a week ago, and then nothing. Because a part of me doesn’t know what to say to you. I don’t want to say anything. Another part of me wants to tell you everything that has happened since I turned twenty-three. I want to be your friend.

For a really long time now, probably ever since you left, I’ve been angry with you. I think we’ve done a shit job of keeping our friendship alive. I know that I’ve been a shitty friend, holding on by a thread.

I’m a hard person to love. You’re a hard person to love too.

But I also know that you’re currently doing one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life.

I know that you’re scared. I know that you are lonely. I know that you are determined, and that you have that mean mug on. That someone forces you to be a morning person every single day. I know that you miss downloading music. I know that you want to watch One Tree Hill. I know these things. I know that you would never admit them. I know that for even five minutes, it probably feels good to hear from an old friend.

I told my cousin that I didn’t feel very close to you, and that I didn’t know the words to say. She said to just talk. About life. To be a friend – because we all need a friend. We all just want to talk and know that someone cares. Even us, those people who have spent a lifetime shutting everyone out. Because no one measures up, right? Wrong.

It turns out that we are not supposed to measure up to anything. We are just supposed to be human.

–S.