Ten years ago, I encountered a young woman named Sarah. Initially, I had some doubts about her. I knew her through her roommate, and she had an eccentricity about her. At just 18, she had left her hometown to move across the country to be with a boyfriend she had never met face-to-face but whom she had connected with online for several years. I only met him twice over the course of seven years.
Sarah was a passionate vegan and considered herself an authority on feminism and human sexuality. Her quiet sarcasm could be sharp, yet she was incredibly kind and considerate. We became close friends, and I even assisted her in securing a job at my workplace in eldercare. She garnered a reputation for standing up for others, particularly when she exposed the sexual abuse that undocumented women faced while caring for seniors.
I held a deep affection for Sarah. She was one of my closest companions, standing by my side at my wedding, helping me with home moves, and even modeling for my paintings. However, I can’t say I was as good a friend to her. I was preoccupied with my own struggles during those years and perhaps overlooked her needs. She was a natural giver, making it easy for me to lean on her for support.
She helped me when I moved in with my boyfriend, during his chemotherapy, and while I prepared for my wedding. She even assisted me with another move while I was six months pregnant with twins. Then one day, I reached out to congratulate her on her engagement, having seen it on Facebook. To my surprise, she didn’t want to speak with me; she was upset and had a list of grievances.
Most of her concerns were unfounded. She accused me of badmouthing her fiancé, claimed I had stolen a DVD (which I immediately replaced), and expressed disdain for a portrait I had painted of her. I listened to her grievances, apologized profusely, and when I asked how I could make amends, she instructed me never to contact her again. I complied, and she ended the conversation with a cheerful goodbye.
It took me months to fulfill her wishes—unfriending her on Facebook and removing her from my contacts. It was a painful experience, as I loved her and felt heartbroken that, at a time when she seemed to be thriving, she wanted me to disappear from her life completely.
For the most part, I’ve kept my promise. I haven’t reached out to her, but when her new husband sent me a friend request, I accepted. Despite four years passing, I find myself checking in on her from time to time. In today’s world, anyone can be found with a bit of effort, especially through mutual acquaintances. A simple search can lead you down a rabbit hole of social media, where you can easily keep tabs on someone from afar.
I often find it bittersweet to see her name pop up in articles, knowing her career is flourishing while I can’t express my happiness for her or share how proud I am of her achievements. Social media allows us to stay updated in real-time about friends’ lives—births, new jobs, and even culinary adventures. It also creates an unprecedented level of accessibility; anyone can trace my digital footprint if they truly want to.
I miss Sarah deeply, and the ability to observe her life from a distance only heightens the emotional struggle. I wish I could reach out, to let her know that I still care and that I will always be here if she ever needs me.
Conclusion
In summary, navigating the complexities of friendships can be challenging, particularly when misunderstandings arise. The emotional toll of losing a close friend remains significant even years later. If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, consider checking out this article on pregnancy or explore resources on self insemination.