This is personal...

Let me be abundantly clear.  I’m not entirely sure of the direction of this post, so please forgive me, as it will likely be scattered, personal, and maybe even confusing.  Actually, if you know me at all, you should expect that just about anything that comes out of my mouth (or that I put on paper) is relatively nonsensical. 

So, there once was a girl who had some very close friends.  These friends were different from the usual high-school friends that most have, I think.  They were all smart and beautiful and funny in their own way, and they all brought out the best in each other (and occasionally, the worst).  The time she spent with those girls would be some of the best times of her life, when they were young, relatively carefree, and unconfined by the pressure of being an adult, although I assure you they did have their fair share of responsibilities. 

These friendships were woven together in the most fascinating of ways, with not one girl inextricably tied to another.  That relationship created a web…a support group.  Mostly they did fun stuff and bonded through things like visiting the beach at all hours, talking about boys, and stuffing their faces with popcorn, salsa, and sparkling grape juice (they pretended to get drunk off the last one, but they were merely high on life, good times, and their mutual friendship).

But all good things must end, or so they say.  Each of us is destined for something different, to follow paths that will eventually break off, narrowing so that it would be impossible for all of those girls to follow the same path…at least, not together. 

And so, it disintegrated.  Because they knew what was coming.  Life.  And it was scary.  The girl knew she was going to lose this freedom, this group of people who bonded through some of the most ridiculous of things, and it didn’t scare her like it scared the rest.  It terrified her.  So she took a step back, figuring the best approach was to slowly disentangle themselves from their dependency on eachother.  She should have known that the best way to pull off a band aid was just to rip it off, all at once.  She took that one step back, afraid to lose the people she loved like sisters, and then it seemed like everybody else was pulling away. 

That girl was wrong.  She had been dreading what was going to happen, the way everybody was going to turn in a different direction and their relationships pulled thin through distance, it’s very fiber tested.  She should have held on, fought for that friendship.  But we all have a fight or flight instinct.  Sadly, hers was flight.

To this day, that girl still doesn’t understand exactly how everything happened.  When she looked back, it seemed as though it happened slowly and all at once.  Looking back, she would see where she’d been wrong.  Looking back, she realized she’d have done it differently... not been afraid to admit she didn’t want to let go, not been captive to the idea that maybe things could still be different if only…

 Great friendships followed the death of that one, another girl took the place that one had vacated, and they became like sisters.  And though they were close, it was never the same.  That girl found the courage to let go of the last bits of that old friendship, realizing that her life was no longer tied to theirs, no matter how desperately she wished it was.  She cast off the last vestiges of that life and started anew.  And she found a once in a lifetime love, the kind that you can only dream of as a young teenager.  That love was the greatest thing to ever happen to her, and it might not have ever happened if she had taken a different course of life.  And though it is the kind of love and he is the kind of man who can make anything okay (better than okay, actually--pretty, freaking amazing), he can’t make her anything other than human.  And a trademark of humanity?  We are the only species concerned with the past.  We care about the past, because it shapes who we are in the present and future.  We look back with fond smiles and heavy hearts on the things we enjoyed and the things we lost, and we remember.  And we miss those times, those people, those feelings.  Because only when we look back do we realize, what we had was defining… life-changing.

That girl would go back and do it differently…but not if it meant giving up the people she had now.  Because the ones she had now share so much with her, things that are profoundly different from the experiences of the naiveté of her youth.  If she could only have both, then life would be perfect.  But this world, our lives (despite what we try to make other people believe) are not perfect.  They couldn’t be further from it.  Maybe that imperfection is beautiful in a twisted way.  Only after experiencing sorrow do we know what it means to truly be happy.  Only after we’ve stood in the storm do we understand what it means to be dry. 

If this makes any sense…. You may need to check with a psychiatrist, because I’ve been told by more than a few people I’m crazy (Nobody in a white coat, for what it’s worth).  Or maybe you’re no more crazy than I am.  Maybe you too, feel the same way about someone or something.  If you do, know this… we can’t change the past.  We can’t change the future.  We can only control what we do and say in the real world, with this breath, this heartbeat, this very second.  And so, if you’re reading this, know the thing I’ve been thinking for years, the thing I may have mentioned but never really proved…

For the way things happened, I’m sorry. 

XO