I’m not much of a Throwback Thursday kinda gal.
In fact, I have never once posted a picture of myself for everyone to marvel over how cute (or, more likely, awkward) I was. But I’m going to do that now, just to break the ice.
There. That’s my sister and I obviously thrilled to be wearing our matching outfits. Oh, the 90s. So many questions for my parents with this one, but that’s a different story that would lead us down a different path…
This post isn’t about pictures or embarrassment.
It’s about rekindling friendship.
Yesterday I met up with a friend that I hadn’t seen in ten years. TEN years.
Our story went something like this
We grew up in the same town, but met each other outside of town at a Catholic high school in Central Massachusetts. I’m not sure what it was that drew us to one another, but we made a fast friendship. We started spending all our spare time with one another. Her obsessions became mine (she’s the reason I’ve seen every single one of Barbara Streisand’s and Cher’s movies), and mine became hers (one word: Celine).
We had walkie-talkies to keep in touch with one another — because back then we didn’t have cell phones.
We spent hours talking and laughing and being teenagers together.
We loved one another deeply in the way that fourteen year-old girls do.
And then, somehow, it all fell apart.
It was the most explosive break-up of my life. Still is. And although our relationship was platonic, it was a break-up. We said mean things to hurt one another. We stopped spending time together. And, funny thing is, neither of us can quite remember why.
All the Feels
No matter how hard I try, I can’t reconstruct what I was feeling back then. I’m sure I was hurt. Right? That’s the logical feeling that would have followed.
But now that I’m thinking about it — maybe, just maybe, I shut her down. Maybe I pushed her away, like in so many of the relationships that followed, because she got too close. Because I was in danger of being hurt.
I’d never really seen it from that angle before.
I don’t really regret it — that’s all I was capable of at the time…but it is an important thing to acknowledge.
Lighting the Fire
I don’t really know what I expected from the meeting. The moment she contacted me I knew we were both ready — and so I wasn’t nervous. Not until she walked into the restaurant, that is, and my stomach dropped out of my body and flopped on the floor like a dead fish.
I saw her before she saw me, and took the moment to stare. She looked exactly the same, but she was different too. More calm, more secure, more herself. It was like all that extra stuff that surrounded her in high school fell away with time.
As we spoke, I realized just how much we had in common, how much we’d always had in common. It felt right, and true and fated in some weird way.
Those ten years had to happen for us to come back to a place where we could meet each other once again, and love one another for who we are now — as grown women. We’ve been through ten years of highs and lows without one another. We’ve experienced so much, and we still have so much to go. And all of that gave us exactly what we needed to come back.
In losing her, I lost a part of myself. When you act through fear, you contract, and try to control every. single. thing. We’ve all been there. But that doesn’t have to be the end. Because love is expanding. In rekindling even just a part of the love we had, I could feel myself growing and relaxing even more into myself. It was wonderful.
So, my friends, here’s my challenge to you for the week. Do you have a long lost friend or soul mate out there? Contact her (or him). Write a letter. Call her on the phone. Invite her to lunch. It may just bring a piece you back that you thought you’d lost.
*Steps down off soap box.*