On the Odyssey, you find lots of "Open Letter To My Ex-Best Friend" articles. Each one follows the same general format: saying "we haven't talked in forever," followed by reminiscing, then questioning what exactly happened. At the end, the author tries (sometimes, insincerely) to be positive, saying something like, "Although we're no longer best friends, I'll always cherish our time together" or "I hope you achieve your dreams."
The articles tend to go viral, which I think makes sense. Everybody can relate to losing friends, and maybe most people in our age group can especially relate. As we transition from teenager to young adult, we lose touch with more people.
Here are some things I know about losing friends. I know that losing people from high school can sometimes be hard, but losing someone, and seeing her face on campus from time to time is harder. I know the seething jealousy and rage that comes with seeing your old best friend with her new clique. (Especially when that clique consists of people you already didn't care for.) I know how it feels to be treated cheap, replaceable, unworthy of some diva's valuable time.
I know that once you lose your best friend, you feel lonely and unloved no matter how many other friends you may have. I'm the kind of person who would rather have one or two best friends than 10 or 12 friends. When you lose your un-biological sibling, your first thought is that no amount of shallow coffee dates and casual conversations can fill the void. And I have never made a friend (I think all my friends have either made friends with me, or a third party introduced us), so I know that filling the void is not easy for everyone.
I know that we desire lifelong friendships that require little effort. We want those Anne-and-Diana, Holmes-and-Watson, Rachel-and-Monica type friendships, the ones with no conflicts, at least none that have lasting damage and can't be solved within a short period. We get these unrealistic images of how our relationships are going to be, and we're devastated when real life doesn't turn out.
I know that writing open letters to your ex-best friend can be cathartic. I've even shared some of those articles; I understand that they are a final effort to say what needs to be said. But here is something else: I know that dwelling in the past can be harmful. I know that sharing memories, even happy ones, can be toxic to your thoughts. Jealousy, bitterness and gossip have their time, but then the time comes to let those things go and just move on. You aren't hurting your old best friend by holding a grudge (and believe me, I can hold a grudge longer than almost anyone I know).
I know that when you lose friends, you should continue to be kind. That's all you can do. You can continue to be kind to the friends you do have. You need them and they need you, and they do love you in their own way.
I know some people say having a best friend is overrated, but I don't think that. I know that, in spite of all the pain and heartache, nothing is better than the moment you're with someone and you realize how much you really love them.
But I know that letting go is necessary. Reminiscing, going over old messages to figure out what went wrong, is comfortable. But nothing good comes out of it. Maybe the healthy thing is walking away from the old messages and the nostalgic blog posts, and living your new life with confidence. Maybe losing a best friend was the push you needed to become a stronger person, somehow. I've been there; I would know.
