First off, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for being a part of my 19 years in one way or another. Every experience you were part of or are yet to be can’t be fully captured through words. Even then, here I am attempting to say what needs to be said for the friends I have both gained and lost.
For those of you that I was once close to, I hope you are doing well. I hope you still crack up whenever you think of our inside jokes. Do pictures of our awkward phase still come up on Timehop? Good. I am glad I got to experience my denim sporting, brace-face days with you by my side. We’ve shared countless laughs, occasional tears, and of course—numerous best friend accessories from Claire’s. Although we threw B.F.F. and B.F.F.L. around like it was no big deal, I don’t think we understood the true responsibility of claiming a forever friendship.
Our friendship was convenient. We both met by chance, liked the same music, and even gushed over the same actors. Our friendship didn’t fail because “we lost touch” or “grew apart”—two of the most common excuses our generation likes to spit out. No. Our friendship didn’t last because we relied on its convenient nature.
It became about give-and-take. We waltzed into each other’s lives when we needed advice or to borrow an outfit, but failed to be mindful of the little things like simply asking “how was your day?” We got lazy, relying on the thought that the other person will always be there no matter how many times we screw up.
I don’t buy the excuses of losing touch or growing apart. We live in an extremely interconnected society, where getting in contact can be as simple as signing into your Facebook account or dialing seven digits. It’s okay to grow apart yet still maintain a friendship—you pursue your endeavors, I’ll focus on mine, but even then, I’ll still be cheering you on from the sidelines.
To those I was once close to, we didn’t put an expiration date on our friendship, we just took the convenient route instead of working towards making it a special package.
For those of you who have still stuck around despite my sarcastic nature and lame jokes, you have become more like family every day. Thank you for being the ice underneath my skates—always keeping me grounded but allowing me to take a new spin on things no matter how shaky it can get (I wasn’t kidding with the lame jokes, BTW). You’ve been my strongest supporters and some of my biggest teachers—allowing me to learn and grow every day. Each of you inspire me in different ways, which is why it is hard to explain what I actually gained when we became friends.
Thank you—for being mindful of the little things—whether it is tolerating my love for country music or bringing me snacks in class when I can’t catch a break. For treating everyday as an adventure, even if it only consisted of going to Burger King at 2 a.m. For taking the time to know my smallest fears and biggest ambitions. For showing me that there’s no room for toxic people in my life—that I shouldn’t reserve space for people who magnify weaknesses rather than embellishing strengths.
Thank you for showing me that what I gained is worth far more than what I have lost.
