Ten years ago, I crossed paths with a girl named Lily. At first, I had my doubts about her. I knew her through her roommate, and let’s just say she was a bit… unconventional. She had moved across the country at just 18 to be with a boyfriend she had never met in person—only online for years. I only encountered him twice in the span of seven years.
Lily was a passionate vegan and a self-proclaimed expert on feminism and human sexuality. Though her sharp wit could be a bit much, she was genuinely sweet and had a heart of gold. We quickly became close friends. I even helped her land a job in eldercare, where she bravely highlighted the sexual abuses faced by undocumented women in the industry, much to the annoyance of the management.
I admired her deeply. Truth be told, I loved her. She stood by me on my wedding day, assisted me during moves, and even modeled for my paintings. She was the epitome of a good friend.
However, I can’t say I was the best friend in return. I was going through a lot during those years and leaned heavily on her, perhaps not realizing that she needed support, too. She was always there for me—when my boyfriend was undergoing chemo, when we moved in together, and even when I was pregnant with twins.
Then one day, I called her to congratulate her on her engagement, which I discovered via Facebook. To my surprise, she didn’t want to speak to me; she was angry. She had a list of grievances—many of which were unfounded. She accused me of trash-talking her fiancé and even claimed I stole a DVD, which I promptly replaced. It was painful to hear her enumerate my faults, and after apologizing, I asked how I could make it right. Her response? To never contact her again.
I reluctantly agreed, and she cheerfully said goodbye before hanging up. It took months for me to follow through with her demands, like unfriending her on Facebook and removing her from my Google chat list. It was heartbreaking. I loved her, and it hurt that she wanted me to disappear from her life, especially when she seemed so happy.
I’ve mostly kept my promise. Yet, when her new husband sent me a friend request, I couldn’t resist accepting it. Four years have passed, but I still find myself checking in on her. In today’s world, it’s almost too easy to find someone online, especially with mutual friends. A little Googling and I can see snippets of her life, which makes me miss her even more.
Social media is a double-edged sword. It keeps us connected to friends and news, allowing us to celebrate milestones like new jobs or babies. But it also makes us accessible, and I can’t help but wonder if she ever thinks of me. I hold onto the hope that one day she’ll miss me, too, perhaps liking one of my posts just to let me know she’s thinking about me.
Four years later, the ache of her absence still lingers. I wish I could reach out and tell her how happy I am for her, how grateful I am that she was ever in my life. I would always be there for her, should she ever want me back.
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In Summary
Friendships can be complex and sometimes painful, especially when misunderstandings arise that lead to separation. It’s essential to cherish the good moments, even when closure feels elusive.