to all the ones who have left

To all the ones who have left,

I still remember. 

I remember running into my room and laughing until our stomachs cramped, and then laughing some more even though we wanted desperately to stop. I remember best friend necklaces and shopping trips and shared sodas. I remember talking about our crushes, sharing inside jokes, e-mailing back and forth because we didn't have phones yet, and swearing we would be friends forever. I remember thinking that you were the one - you were the one who was going to stay, the one that would keep in touch, the one who would be different than everyone else. I remember when we talked less and less, when my attempts to reach out went unanswered, when eventually I stopped reaching out because what was the point anyway? 

I know most of you haven't forgotten me - sometimes I still get tagged in "who was your best friend in fifth grade" posts, "Throwback Thursdays," and Facebook Memories. None of you left me because of an argument, a fight, or any malice. You left because we slowly grew apart, and you moved on.  

I shouldn't be mad at you, because you didn't intend to hurt me. You didn't mean to leave a gaping hole in my heart that I tried so quickly to fill with the next person, who - spoiler alert - left me, too. You didn't know that because of my low self-esteem that I tell myself, "They left because you're worthless. They left because you're a bad friend. They left because they found someone better. They left because you weren't good enough." It's not your fault that I struggle with my mental health, and I'm not blaming you or asking you to take responsibility for my own problems.

I just wish you would've said goodbye so I'd have known it was over, instead of trying and trying for so long.

I wish you'd told me it's not because anything I've done - it's just hard to keep in contact over a long distance, you're a different person now, or anything really! Anything to fill the silence of my unanswered attempts to find you again.

I wish you hadn't left, but we can't change that now.

I wish I could forget you.

I wish I wasn't crying right now.

I wish you hadn't unintentionally hurt me.

I wish I was okay.

I wish I could forget you.

But I still remember.

 * * *

There's a strange little thrill that comes with the phrase, "You're my best friend" whether it's a formal declaration or an offhand comment; the special feeling that comes with knowing that out of all the humans in the world, this person has chosen you - you - to be their special someone.

The problem is, I don't have a best friend. Throughout the years, I have had many, many best friends. I know, I know - "You can only have one." But as someone who loves deeply and wholeheartedly, there are dozens of people in my life who I've been close to, invested in, and loved on and who have done the same for me. And yet, every one of these people have left. 

My father was in the military, so growing up, I moved around a lot. Many of my friends I lost because of distance. Others I lost because, well, I'm not sure why. In junior high, two of my three closest friends stopped talking to me simultaneously, I still wonder why, but I tell myself not to think about it. If you can't tell, letting go of the past is extremely hard for me. I am very loyal - it's one of my greatest qualities and also serves as my greatest weakness. I want to love on everyone and be there for everyone and I want everyone to be there for me and love me, but that's not possible or healthy. I also have an extremely good memory, so unfortunately I remember my high school best friend's favorite color (it's yellow), when exactly I gave each of those best friend necklaces to each respective friend, and why exactly my friend and I were laughing so hard that our stomachs hurt. 

Recently, I "lost" one of my closest friends. We're still on friendly terms, but I've deleted all of our text messages because looking over them was making me angry + bitter. Realizing that she might not be big part of my life or my future children's life is hard; I'm not going to lie. But letting her go also freed me - when she does text me or reach out, I will look at it as a lovely reminder of what once was. When we do see each other, hopefully we will be able to catch up and enjoy each other's company. But I'm not going to rely on her because we weren't able to keep up that closeness. It's the first time I've consciously made the effort to exit a relationship - well, exit isn't the right word. It's more like a change in status from from "constant" to "distant."

It hurts not because we've been close for years; it hurts because I've never processed all the other people who have stopped talking to me. It hurts because every time someone "leaves," I look back at everyone else who has walked away and subsequently see myself as unworthy of love. But that's not the truth: my worth is not defined by whether or not I have a best friend, a multitude of friends, or no friends. My worth can only be defined by who I am in Christ - otherwise every label I place on myself will leave me feeling worthless and unloved. 

My process for moving forward is first, allowing myself to grieve. It seems silly, to mourn over someone who isn't dead, but the friendship is gone - withered, shriveled, likely dehydrated beyond repair. Maybe someday, a few of the friendships will come alive again. Maybe they won't. Either way, it's okay.

And after I grieve, I'm moving on. Maybe it means deleting more texts; maybe it means taking some things to the thrift store. Maybe it means taking some photos down, or throwing away some letters. This won't be done out of anger or bitterness, but in a spirit of thankfulness and appreciation. 

I briefly visited the subjects of friendship in two of my previous blog posts, one about making my support system stronger and this one's for the givers, so you can see that it's a subject I've been ruminating upon for some time. 

Over the past few months, I've come to understand that the root cause of my sorrow is not people leaving me - it's the fact that I don't see myself as worthy of other people's affections, and discarding mementos or writing more blog posts is not going to change that. But I also understand that I need to let some relationships go, in order to make room for new ones. Because even though I've told J countless times, "I never want another best friend," I do want to love on more people, make new memories, and build more relationships. Maybe not today, but soon.

* * *

To all the ones who have left,

I still remember.

I love you.

Thank you.

Goodbye. ♥