To the friends from home that I lost during college,
We had a good run, didn't we? We had a lot of crazy and exhausting late nights, many shared secrets, and memories that have continued to last even though we haven't talked in months. I think of you every time I pass through places in our hometown; whether it's the breakfast place we went to before school sometimes or the shops downtown where we spent many afternoons searching for the perfect dress or pair of shoes. While I sometimes like to think that being older is much better, there are so many things I miss about when we were younger: the carefree way we went about life, the naiveté when it came to our hopes for the future, and the unabashed way that we were ourselves.
You came into my life at a time when the future was uncertain, and I was, am, and always will be grateful for your laughter, love, and friendship. The truth is that neither one of us can be blamed for drifting apart; some friendships aren't meant to last forever. But we did have our own little bit of forever during middle and high school, and I keep those memories close to my heart. But they're just that: memories. Fleeting visions of what used to be. You and I have both changed a lot since then. We no longer wear our hair in pigtails or have peace signs covering every inch of our bodies. We don't talk the same way or even think the same way. But if I saw you on the street today, I would be instantly taken back to when we stayed up all night making food and listening to horrible pop music, and to the times we spent all day getting ready for dances.
You are a bittersweet memory now; the only way I refer to our friendship is in past tense: was, has, did. I don't know if your favorite color is still green or if you listen to the same oldies music you used to. I don't know if that boy you crushed on senior year means anything to you anymore, or if that crush has collected dust on the same shelf that framed pictures of us stand on. I don't know if you've seen me and walked in the other direction, or if you've tried sending a text to me a hundred times and couldn't. This is what has put the bitter in bittersweet: I don't know the most important details of your life anymore. It hurts to admit that, and, to tell you the truth, I'm still coming to terms with it.
At the end of the day, what I do know is that I hope that you're well. I hope that you've chased your dreams and that you've been true to who you are along the way. I hope that you're building a life younger you would be proud of, and I hope that you've had the courage to take all the opportunities that have come your way. I hope that you've surrounded yourself with new friends who support you and are always there for you like I used to be. Most of all, I hope that you allow yourself to be a kid again from time to time. (Younger you was pretty great to be around, and it'd be a shame if no one else ever got to know her.)
Though it would be easy to be, I'm not bitter that we've lost each other. We once said that we'd be best friends forever, but I realize now that we needed to let each other go in order to grow as separate people. Our friendship was real and good and something I won't ever forget, no matter the distance or the time that passes.
Sincerely,
The friend you've lost
