Floored

Dear soon-to-be-moving friend,

When I was a child growing up in America, strangers would arrive from England claiming to be family. After a week or two they'd actually be able to convince me that they were fun and friendly, and then we'd inevitably wind up at the airport where my new best friends would hug me and leave. I was the worst at these goodbyes. I cried and cried and hated the fact that they'd even come in the first place because it was so hard to say goodbye.

And now, I am, once again, the one who is being left behind. You're moving away and that is hard for you. I know you have a lot of people and places to say goodbye to, a lot of packing and planning to do, but even though I only have to say goodbye to you, I'm finding it really hard to let go and grieve. Simply put, I just don't want to.

The truth is, when I first arrived you are what made my transition to life here comfortable. It's like my life was a cold room and you were the warm rug beneath my feet, to make me even want to stay, to make me feel at home, to give me something to stand on. Then, all of a sudden, you're leaving and that rug has been yanked from beneath my feet so suddenly that I'm lying flat on my back struggling to breathe, trying to come to terms with the fact that the floor is cold and hard and I have to figure out how to get up and keep on going without you here.

You're moving because of good things, you're going back to family, job, familiar culture and language. Of course you'll be different than before, seasoned with something a little bit foreign, changed by unexpected events and stronger for having left in the first place. And it doesn't help that I've known for a long time that this was coming, in fact it has hung over my head for so long without me even realizing that it was a cloud I lived under. It doesn't matter that I've had time to adjust to what might be after you leave. You're still leaving and it still hurts.

If I'm really honest, I'm panicking that I won't know what to do without you. It's not as though I need you to make me who I am, but you did such a good job of accepting me and supporting me and challenging me to be a better me, that I'm worried that instead of moving forward, I'll just stop. I'll freeze in place, or maybe no one will ever know that I'm still lying on the floor, no one will be there to pull me up and set me on my feet again.

And lying here, with the wind knocked out of me, I'm wishing with all my heart that I could hold on to you and keep you here. I'm struggling to let you go with joy. I can't help but think of all the things you've taught me, all the nice meals you've made me, all the ways you've cared for me, all the fun times we've shared together, all the hard times we've survived together, all the many coffees you've "shouted" me to and even the tears we've shared. I see each moment that you were there for me and it hurts that we're having to leave them behind. 

Please, bear with me while I work on letting you go, on giving you up, on saying goodbye. Please stay in contact with me even from the other side of the world. Please still ask me hard questions, share funny jokes, give me advice, challenge me to be open and honest, send me a WhatsApp…be my friend. I know it won’t be exactly the same. I know it's so much harder when we can't see each other face to face. But let's use Skype and Google Hangout and FaceTime until our devices' batteries are dead. Until we can one day see each other again...

My soon-to-be-moving friend, I want to thank you for everything. I even want to thank you for the times you annoyed me and the times when you made me do things I didn't want to do. I thank you for being real with me even when it was hard. I want to thank you most of all for laughing with me when there was really nothing to laugh about.

To all my other friends, I'm sorry if I don't immediately jump off the floor, I'm taking one breath at a time down here, feel free to join me and just hold my hand...I'll let you know when I'm ready for you to pull me to my feet again. 

Almost exactly four years ago, it was my turn to do the leaving, to say goodbye to family and friends, to get on the airplane and to fly away. I was flying to meet you in person for the very first time and I was pretty sure we would like each other, but I was also understandably nervous. I never expected us to be like family and to have to one day say goodbye and to have it be so very very hard.

Recently, I've been imagining a café (I'm not sure where) that serves really good coffee, although the taste hardly matters, because you and I are there together and it's as if we've never been apart. We talk and laugh about people we know and things we've done, and I can't help but be grateful that I have a friend like you.

So, you're moving away which feels like you're moving on, but I know that this is simply not true. I'm thinking of all the people who get to have you back, all the people you still get to meet and all the people you will help to make feel at home, just as you've done for me. How lucky they are, how glad I am for them. And I'd like to think that maybe your heart is big enough to welcome them all in, because you have a little piece of mine to carry with you.

I want to wish you all the best in your move. I want you to know that you have a very special place in my heart and when I stand on rugs, I think of you.

From the bottom of my heart (and the floor),

Your friend

An Open Letter

Dear soon-to-be-married friend*,

I’m so excited for your upcoming marriage! I’m so glad that you’ve picked out just the right color scheme for your flowers, table settings, bridesmaid dresses, invitations and decorations. It’s so wonderful that you booked the ideal venue, that your honeymoon is on a warm tropical island, that your photographer is giving you a discount on the deluxe package…I can remember when you and your significant other first started going out and it seems like it was just yesterday you were telling me you’d finally decided to make it Facebook official. It’s amazing how things work out, right?

I’m seriously so thrilled, so excited, so wonderfully pleased….

OK, I’m sorry, but I need to be real for a moment. Because you’re such a good friend and I can’t keep up this mask of joy anymore. 

While you are wedding planning and dreaming of your new life as a couple, I’m quietly grieving the loss of a friendship. Not because I don’t think we won’t be friends in the future, but because the very nature of our friendship is about to change dramatically. Your friendship, for better or worse, now comes with strings attached. Of course I want you to take time to grow as a couple, to settle into your marriage, to readjust to life together, but at the same time, I’m selfishly wishing that I didn’t have to share you, that I could follow you into “couplehood” just so we could stay on the same level, lifestage and marital status.

The truth is that while you are going from single to married, I am going from your friend to your “single” friend. And when you’re in a couple, that’s a hard relationship to maintain. It doesn’t mean it can’t be done, but it’s going to take awhile to figure it out and it will never be quite the same.

So, if I don’t jump for joy at every little wedding bell, it’s because I’m dealing with the fact that you’re marrying your best friend which means I am not, nor ever will be again, your best friend. I’m left behind because of good things; because you’re in love, because you’ve found the one, because you’re ready to take the plunge…the reality is that your life is moving forward rapidly, but I feel like mine as I knew it, has suddenly ended.

And if I really think about it, I’m jealous. I’m jealous of your soon-to-be-spouse because they get to have you and I’m jealous of you because you may not know what your future holds but you know who you’re going to be WITH. ‘Til death do you part.

So, while the wedding for you will be a celebration of your love and commitment. For me, it will be a reminder of what I am losing, of what I don’t have and what I will not have once the “I do”s are done and the cake is cut.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve had years to prepare for this reality, it still hurts. It still feels like I’m missing out, I’m losing, I’m somehow suddenly less…

I really really want to be happy for you, but I don’t want to lie to you, my soon-to-be-married friend. I am actually really, really devastatingly sad. I feel abandoned, alone and terribly empty when I look at the future. So, if my smile is a little forced, if my laughter is a little faked, if my happiness is just a façade, that’s because I don’t want you to know just how sad I am. I don’t want to ruin your perfect day, the beginning of your new life. I’m struggling to let you go, even though I know it’s healthy for you to move on. I treasure our friendship and all that it has taught me.

I guess what I’m saying is, life is a rollercoaster sometimes. You and I used to be in the same carriage riding the highs and lows together. But somewhere along the ride, you got out and got into someone else’s carriage. And now you and that person are at the peak of the ride, but my carriage is still down in the valley. We’re still on the same ride, still in each others’ lives, but I’m in a different carriage, a different view and from where I’m sitting, you look impossibly far away and happy, with your hands in the air, grinning from ear to ear. I’m hoping I get to where you are at some point, but right now the ride is not so fun. It’s bumpy and noisy and there’s no one to scream next to.

Please, bear with me while I work on letting you go, on giving you up, on letting our friendship evolve and change to include your other half and your new marriage. Please invite me to be a part of your life and just excuse me if I don’t know quite what to do or say. Please still ask me hard questions, share funny jokes, give me advice, challenge me to be open and honest, send me a text, ask me for dinner…be my friend. I know it won’t be exactly the same. I know your spouse will be involved. But give me a chance to love them too, give me a chance to see them the way you do, as someone incredibly special and wonderful.

After all, they must be pretty freaking amazing because you chose them and at some point you also chose me. I cannot doubt your impeccable taste! I’m sorry for the times my sadness has come across as disapproval or unsupportive. I’m still dealing with the fact that I’m selfish, that I need to mature enough to think of what is good for you and not just good for me. And I need to do some of that maturing now without you. L

If you’ve made it this far, my soon-to-be-married friend, I thank you for your time and patience. Thank you for listening. Thanks for allowing me to be me with you even when it’s messy and complicated.

I want to wish you a very blessed wedding day and a wonderful marriage.

Sincerely,

Your friend

(if you’ll still have me)

*Disclaimer: This letter is not directed at any specific person, but rather is a result of some raw and real emotions.