Moving On

Pretty much all of my life, I had three best friends.  Particularly in high school we were all really close.  Even up until I moved to Texas, we all got along pretty well, with the exception of two who didn’t really see eye to eye anymore.

Rachel was the first one to move.  She moved to Jacksonville probably four or five years ago now.  That was pretty far, but the four of us still remained generally pretty tight-knit.  I’m sure for Rachel it was torturous to see the three of us hanging out without her, especially because moving a thousand miles away from home can be really lonely.  A little over three years ago, David and I moved to Texas, and that’s when things changed.

More accurately, right after my 23rd birthday.  I had been feeling pretty distant with Margo for some time at that point.  She called a few times per week when I first moved, and that was great effort.  However, when we’d talk on the phone, she only talked about herself, which wasn’t that uncommon for her anyway.  I’ve never been much of a talker, so usually I feel like people always talk about themselves and I listen.  And that’s okay.  But then she started talking about other people I barely even knew pretty much incessantly.  It was like in her mind, that was all we had to talk about.  The calls to each other went to once a week and then even less than that.

For my 23rd birthday, Rachel and Sophia flew out to visit, and none of us even told Margo.  In hind sight, that was pretty mean of us, and sometimes I regret not even asking her.  We invented some excuse in our heads of why it was better if she didn’t come, and we stuck to it.  The three of us got matching tattoos, and then I went home in March or May, can’t remember which because they both start with “m.”  I’m sure that she was annoyed with me, but Margo called anyway to see if I’d have lunch with her at Seven Saints, which of course I would because who doesn’t love a Cali Turkey Slider with sweet potato fries?  She saw the tattoo and asked about it, and when I told her, she seemed even more annoyed and of course I’m sure she felt left out.

That was the last time I saw or talked to her.  Rachel never talks to her either from what I understand, and Sophia actively avoids her if she sees her out.  It’s arguably much easier for Rachel and I to avoid her, considering we live really far away and go home twice a year.

Moving on from a lifelong friendship can be really hard sometimes.  I do miss her, all of the time.  Last time I visited Illinois with Hazel, I was really really close to calling her and apologizing and asking to see her.  This feeling was prompted by finding the pictures from France her mom had labeled and given to me.  I actually cried because I missed those times.

Something about having a baby and her not being in my life upsets me sometimes.  Up until we moved here, she was like family, and it’s probably the hardest friendship I’ve had to let go.  We used to do everything together and she was basically part of every major life decision I’d ever made.  I still wonder about her all of the time, and wonder if she’s changed, or if I’ve changed.  Would we be more compatible friends?

I’m not sure.  I’m not sure if we would ever be close again.  Do I want to be?  Probably some day, when we have more common ground.  I still love her, and I will always cherish all of our memories together, even the bad ones.

Like I said, moving on can be difficult.  And sad.  Now I’m sad again thinking about all of this even more!  I’m just going to blame these mom-hormones that plague my daily life.

Wearing a sweater Margo's mom knitted for her.  I wish I had one!

Wearing a sweater Margo’s mom knitted for her. I wish I had one!

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2 thoughts on “Moving On

  1. That sweater is so cute & sweet of her to make it. I understand and do have some fond memories. I would like to cut out all negative feelings for her- I will work on that eventually. Harboring negative feelings is not good for the soul!

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