I think we all have those kind of memories. Memories about friends that we for some reason have lost. I do too. This is a story of it.
I once had this friend, who was my best in all ways possible. I was continuously amazed about her, how wise she was, how caring, how funny and daring. And how good time we had together. I had this feeling that we could talk about just anything, and we did. We cared about each others thoughts and were interested about them. Nothing felt stupid after sharing it with her. I got some pretty good advices from her, she was always there for me.
Not everything was so sweet with her anyways, she was the only one that made me go absolutely mad. I have never been more angry and furious when sometimes arguing with her. I liked to say that we had that kind of passionate love-hate relationship that others have with opposite sex. I mean. Not in that way, of course not. We were friends and she was the dearest I had, after all the arguing, we still were the best friends ever.
What happened, you might ask. The life had other plans for us. There was one thing that came between us. Children. We both were married and we both tried to have children, but it didn’t work as planned – for each of us. I had several miscarriages, she didn’t get pregnant at all. The doctors told her it was because her husband. When I told her about my first miscarriage she told me loud and clear that she couldn’t be my friend if I was pregnant, because she couldn’t be. I didn’t understand. Isn’t a friendship supposed to bear everything? Shouldn’t she be happy for me, just as I was sad for her?
There was another miscarriage after my friend told me that the lightning never strikes twice in the same place. That was slight ironic comment for me, for it did strike, not only twice but thrice. Anyways, after that we had this small break-up, for my friend just couldn’t understand that I would want children if she couldn’t have them. I felt she was selfish and only made me feel worse, for losing my dearest friend and my child-to-come. I decided I couldn’t take that anymore. Now we are friends, now we aren’t.
After several months we started emailing again and everything seemed as good as it could be. After some odd feelings in the beginning, of course. She asked if I was pregnant and I told her that I didn’t have the courage to try anymore. I think she was happy to hear that. I wasn’t. I think we had plenty of arguments in that time, about just anything. About my choise of husband (she didn’t approve. Like I cared.), about my feelings of insufficiency, about religion, about everything we talked about. I got this feeling she didn’t have any respect for me anymore. And in the same time she told me how sad she was when all her friends took some distance from her. Well, I couldn’t blame them. I did, too. She was too much for me to take. I can’t really remember anymore what was the ultimate reason we totally stopped being in contact. It had to do something with the subject, of course, but I can’t remember.
After that I did have my dear doughter and I was happy. I couldn’t help myself thinking about my friend and hoping that everything was turned well for her, too. I put some pictures of my doughter on Facebook and I was totally stunned when one day there was a message from my friend. She congratulated me for having a child. I saw in her picture two little girls and was amazed. I found out that she had twins, 6 months older than my doughter. I was truly happy for her and I assumed she was happy for me, too. We started to have conversations again, small ones, very cautious ones, for we both tried not to hurt the another. For a small time it felt like we could be friends again, as before. She did even visit me once allthough she lived another side of the country. It felt funny for me. We had experienced so much and still everything was pretty much the same as before. It made me feel sad somehow. Did we just not talk about the injuries we had caused to each other and just pretend we were good again? I think we did, for it didn’t last.
We aren’t friends at the moment.
This makes me think that after a friendship has been truly and entirely cut off, there can’t be any cure for it anymore. So I have to announce the statement in the headline as false. What do you think? Is there a chance for broken friendships to be mended again?
I’m sad for this, of course, for I understand that she was one of a million. There will never be another friend like her. I just need to live with that.