There are many ways to lose a friend. To death, to neglect, to misunderstanding.
I have lost a friend. No, he didn’t die – but almost as good as. What I feel is akin to grief. No, it’s grief, period.
It was one of those tight spots you can’t escape unscathed. We both were forced to make a choice where the right thing was not an option – or so I believe.
This wasn’t the only time for me. This time, again, I watched helplessly as a friendship came crashing down in a souring series of e-mails. And I thought, no, this is not happening.
Do not go gentle into that good night –
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Distance is a killer. When all you have is e-mails, and you can’t talk, let alone see each other, even a small misunderstanding will turn into a burning brawl of words, leaving nothing but ruins in its wake.
When I finally cut the ties to you, I admit I felt relieved. It seemed as if you were forcing me to do that, as if you really wanted this. But deep down I can’t believe it was your plan.
Our friendship was probably long gone before I realized that and stopped struggling.
I know it’s very hard for you. But I don’t know what drove you into this, and I don’t want to speculate.
I know you’re out there. Hey, I think of you practically every hour, do you know that? That I think of all the things you gave me? Those are not undone or forgotten.
They say Christmas is a time of forgiveness and love. I say it’s always time to forgive and love. I say Christmas is when you reach out to those you can’t reach anymore. I know it’s physically impossible, I know it requires an unthinkable miracle to get through to you.
So, here’s to you all who can no longer talk to me. Here’s to you all I can no longer reach. Here’s to you all who used to have someone, but you can no longer talk to them. Here’s to you all who were left alone in the process.
May there be a road back. A bumpy, steep, uphill road – but a road. Let’s build it.