How to Accept the End of a Friendship (Maybe)
A line from a novel helped settle my unease about once-close connections that have gone cold
Once upon a time, we were deeply ingrained in each other’s lives. We met up for dinners or movies or just to ride the rhythm of our good time, toasting to our own riff on “nature’s masterpiece,” as Emerson described friendship. We walked and wrote and called and felt like we were getting closer and closer. We went on road trips, chose conversation over sleep, got each other out of jams. We told each other “I love you,” and we meant it. We absorbed each other’s sadnesses and made them more bearable. We were there at pivotal moments. We coded one another into our senses of self, more confident and supported and energized because of the bond we’d formed. We knew in our bones we’d always be friends.
When you no longer live in the same place, some erosion is probably inevitable even in “lifelong” friendships. In the early years of that new distance, we prioritized visits but later on, it sometimes became harder or less convenient on both ends and if we happened to pass through each other’s city, it would always be “great to see you,” even alongside a reality that we were far less present in each other’s lives than before.
