I spent the past weekend visiting one of my oldest and dearest. I’ll spare you the details, but there was a lot of eating and drinking and laughing and shopping and A LOT of talking. A LOT. Therapy never felt so good. This chic, she is my soul sister. She is my rock. She knows it all…high school, college, twenty-something, thirties…she’s been there. Even my childhood, I think she’s heard all my stories. At some points we’ve been “closer” than others, talking more often, that sort of thing. We’ve gone months without speaking, just because, you know, life happens, but we always pick right back up where we left off. I don’t know that we’ve ever really had any “issues” or “fights”, we just get each other. It’s so easy with her because I don’t ever have to explain myself. And I can always just be myself. I’m telling you, everyone should get a Sarah. 🙂

But there are other friends, I am a lucky girl. Lots of friends, old and new. Some have been around almost as long as me. Others are relatively new, in the same stage of life right now. There are some friendships that have drifted apart, as life happened, and others that, despite distance and time, remain. Again, I am lucky, so very lucky. I am trying to “count” those who I hold closest and the list is embarrassingly long…so many wonderful, inspiring, amazing friends who have helped shape me, who’ve been there through the good times, the bad, and the mundane (which is a true testament to friendship!). For each, I hold a special memory (or two or three or ten…) and certain little things remind me of them, often at the most odd times. I cannot hear or see anything about Las Vegas without thinking of Carrie; lemon bars…Nathan; laughing so hard it hurts will always be attached to Adrianne; for Cat it is Thanksgiving; Jonathan, my lover boy,…well, that list is long and some not so appropriate for a blog (ha!)…the list could go on for days. And every memory makes me happy, even when we have drifted apart, even when I don’t know exactly where they’ve ended up, I smile at the thought of all those people that have been a part of me.

Generally I take a positive outlook on things – if a relationship, whether that is romantic or friend or whatever, doesn’t work out, it was for the best. Maybe I learned a thing or two, made some good memories, had some fun. I hold on to that and take comfort in what I had, but I don’t dwell. I know I am who I am because of all that I’ve experienced, good and bad. I don’t really have regrets, because I wouldn’t be who or where I am without it all. Back to the friends – they each hold a special place, they’ve helped shape me, and even if we aren’t still in touch, I can look back positively. But I am struggling lately. I’ve lost a friend and this one hurts. I miss her. I miss us. The memories make me sad. I think of things I’m missing out on in her life and I wish I could be a part of them. I miss our talks. I’d like to spend a weekend with her too, but it seems that that time is over. And I’m grieving. Just like a death, I’ve lost a friendship and I’m moving through those annoyingly accurate stages of grief. I certainly did the denial thing for awhile and pretended it was just some “phase”. I’ve been angry a lot. In fact, I keep coming back to this particularly crappy stage. And I realized this weekend, as I shared so much with one best friend, that I was depressed about the other. This sadness keeps jumping back to anger, then sadness, then anger again. I think anger is my defense mechanism. (Yes, yet another thing I should probably work on.) I don’t know when I’ll get to acceptance. I assume it’s like an actual loss of life, it slowly moves further back into your mind, wearing a little spot to sit and stay. It likely won’t ever go completely away, but I’ll think about it less. I already do. Which makes me sad again. Things remind me of this friend, times we’ve shared, the good stuff. But this time it’s grayed a little, singed around the edges. And it sucks. Not the most beautiful description, but accurate nonetheless. This loss sucks. It’s hard. Part of me wants to just move on, part of me hopes I never fully do.

My therapist, I mean, my dear friend Sarah, shared this quote with me this weekend. I don’t know who wrote it (I’d love to give credit where credit is due) but it really hit home. It has allowed me to acknowledge my grief (isn’t that a critical first step?) and take the time I needed to talk about some things and to have a really good cry. Because the loss of a friendship is a loss of both an actual person and a little (or big) piece of yourself.

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So I’m going to grieve for awhile. To my other friends, so many of you, please be a little more patient with me. To my husband, I’m sorry, you’ve already had to hear about this and you’re probably going to hear about it a little (lot) more. And to the one….I miss you, I’m sorry, and I will absolutely always love you.





One thought on “Grief

  1. The heartache that comes when someone is still accessible and yet impossible to reach is an entirely different grief, isn’t it? When you’ve suffered the loss of life, you go through that bargaining stage that seems ridiculous and irrational. But the bargaining comes, and then goes: no possible solution found. For me, it’s that step which trips me up when grieving the loss of someone perfectly alive, because there ought to be a solution. The bargaining doesn’t work; it’s not irrational. Sigh. Just thought I’d chime in with some empathy.

    Glad you’re blogging. Can’t wait to read more.

    Liked by 1 person

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