Thank You for being a Friend…

There was a time in my life when I had a friend that I could share anything with. Regardless of how awkward the subject or how intense the reality of my pain, this person let me vent and get it all out without hesitation. They never tried to “fix” me or tell me that my feelings were invalid. They never turned the tables and used my angst to redirect the conversation back on themselves or something that happened to them.

I haven’t thought about them in years, but today, I woke up missing them. My mind was jumbled after a night of fitful sleep, crazy dreams, and a sense of general unease. I knew that the only person I could tell (who still has corporeal form) would be them. I miss having that type of friendship. Because no matter how many times they were there for me, I was likewise there for them. No question. No hesitation. Nothing they said would shock me or make me care about them less. They were always safe with me, and I was always safe with them.

Plot twist. This wasn’t my husband. Had Brent not passed away, he would have 100% fit this description and did it for over a decade. In fact, if Brent had not passed away, I would wager that I would not have woken up with thoughts of this person burning so deeply in my brain that I had to take an Advil. But my reality is what it is and here I sit, rambling into the ether about a friendship that I had once, using the anonymity of the internet to replace the feelings of what can only be described as true, selfless, unconditional friendship. Such a rare commodity.

I have great friends now. Truly. The kind of selfless humans that show up when your whole world gets turned upside down. The kind that lies in the bed with you and holds your hand while your shattered heart tries to learn how to pump enough blood through your body so that you can learn to stand and walk again. My friends worked behind the scenes to redecorate my office so that I had a sanctuary to return to when I had to report back to the office after nearly a year juggling caregiving and working full time from home. The kind of friends who pack, unpack, load, unload, and decorate your house – not once, but twice – in less than six months. I am loved. I know this. And yet…

I held my niece hostage the other night. A hard day at the office paired with all the post-holiday emotions and the pre-birthday mind f^@k that is on deck and I found myself letting out a wildly off-centered stream of consciousness on someone who was wholly unprepared. To her credit, she too listened and did not try to switch the conversation, but I wager that was because she was too afraid to respond at all. I am a lot sometimes. Which is why I don’t let the cork out of the barrel very often and why I am once again circling back to missing my friend.

I am not going to try and find them now. Too much time has passed since we last spoke. Too much life has happened. Even still, I will spend some time today being grateful for them and the lessons they taught me about life and love and how to be a decent human. I will confess that I think of them every time I hear someone say “crackers”. I can say that I miss you something terrible and that I hope you are genuinely happy and life has been kind.

I am also going to spend some time thinking about friends who are in my current orbit. I will work harder to try and share the pieces of me that were only reserved for Brent and work on trusting other humans with the inner machinations of my mind before I lose what little bits of it that I have left.

For the immediate future, I am going to shower and get ready for my day. I am going to load the boxes of memories that I am too sad to face and put them back into storage. I am going to finish organizing my room and bathroom, do some laundry and pretend that somehow, writing this down was the same as talking to my old friend. It wasn’t…but I am quite good at pretending.