Everyone progresses through life at different rates. You were ready for a baby, and I wasn't. You want kids, and I am still figuring out how to take care of myself. No one has done wrong here, you wanted different things than me, and that's OK. Maybe one day my desires will align with yours, but that day is not today. I still love you, and I still want to hang out, but you've got to understand that I still enjoy doing the things we used to.
Things are almost impossible with your new bundle of joy.
We used to go on great adventures that were risky and sometimes a little crazy, but now it's all car seats and strollers and little hats. I love your baby, and I love you, but you've graduated into this new version of yourself, and I became friends with the old you.
The you that didn't have to pack an extra bag to go out to eat -- the you that didn't have to worry about changing a diaper every hour — and I'm not mad, but please understand I didn't sign up for a baby.
Not yet, anyway. I'm still where you left me. I'm still doing risky things, I'm still staying out all night, living fast and free without the stress of keeping a tiny human alive. I get it, it's stressful, and I want to be there for you like we used to be for each other, but I don't know this life you've become accustomed to.
I'm not ready to settle down yet, please respect that.
You made the decision, and there's nothing wrong with living out your dreams, but please don't be angry with me for living out mine. I've heard it said countless times that you learn who your friends really are when you have a baby, but I find that to be a little unfair. When you have children, you change. It may be a subtle change or it may be a dramatic turn-around, but change is change. It's hard to figure out new, baby-friendly activities when just ten months ago we were riding bucking horses and swimming in questionable ponds.
I am still who I was, please don't demand that I change too.
Our friendship was built on this mutual support of each other's hopes and dreams, so please support me now. Let me live out the rest of my wild years. Give me time to find love as you've found. Allow me to catch up to you in my own time.