I wrote this piece after falling out with a very close friend, to try and transfer the heartache I felt into something physical, a medium in which I could see my feelings, and try and understand them. Recently, I have felt more and more that friend relationships are severly underated, and the fact that falling out with, or losing a friend that you were close with is sometimes just as painful as the heartbreak caused by ending a romatic relationship. Sometimes, the recovery is just as long, as you figure out who you are without that person, and find other people that perhaps deserve your friendship a little more than that other person did.
I happen to believe that these things happen for a reason, and although losing a friend was so painful to begin with, it pushed me towards others, people I fiinally feel at home with. So, although this piece is a little bitter and negative, it comes from a dark place, which I hope I have since grown from.
The futures we had planned are gone,
The dreams of that shared house,
The friends for life,
The constant neither of us thought we’d have,
The thing we found in each other that made us hold on so
Burn so bright,
Would fall short of its year anniversary.
Neither of us saw it coming,
But you made sure there was no recovery.
All those memories I have, for what?
Joy surges for but a moment,
Until I remember why it’s in the past,
Then joy is replaced by that fearsome ache
That presses on my chest,
That constricting hand of death,
Reminding me that though you are still here,
To me you are gone.
If I could only go back,
To warn myself that I was right,
That all this friendship would do,
Is confirm what I already knew.
That you could never fight for me. The way I would you.
If anyone reading this is struggling with friendships, know that it is natural, people grow and change and that’s ok. Sometimes friendships aren’t meant to last forever, they’re just meant to get you through a specific point in time, until you find who you really are, and the people that you are truly meant to be with.