I have no idea what my best friend ate for breakfast this morning, I don’t know her work schedule, and I certainly don’t know what animal her last piece of jewelry featured (she collects animal themed jewelry y’all, I know, but back off, she’s my best friend). I can blame all of this on the fact that the last time we had a real conversation, that didn’t involved texting or Facebook messenger was awhile ago.
And you know what? That’s ok.
My BFF, let’s call her Jess* is the bomb.com. She’s kind, she’s hilarious, and she’s talented. She works for a traveling children’s theater company and visits all sorts of amazing places on the regular. She was the only person who came to visit me while I lived in Peru and was totally cool to trade off long hikes and sitting around in cafes chatting.
In middle school and high school we had every class together, did all the same extracurricular activities, and spent all of our free time together. We had a BFF handshake that was at least five minutes long and took quite a lot of commitment and flexibility to perform. We probably talked on the phone every day and we didn’t even have cell phones.
Those years were the best of our early friendship.
In college we were across the state from each other and both incredibly busy, so I only saw her a few times a year. We had a good conversation every few weeks over the phone or dropped each other an email. I worried that our friendship was dying. We’d made our own friends, we’d found happiness in different cities and I was sure it was over. But I distinctly remember having a midnight meal together one summer weekend when we were both home and laughing over something dumb for far too long. And, though I was having some trouble breathing, I realized we were just growing and that’s a busy business, but your arms don’t fall off when your body grows, they just hang out and wait.
Those years were the best of our young adult friendship.
And then this weird post-college warhead came out of nowhere and blew up both of our worlds, proving that life after college is not all independence and great jobs, it’s actually largely fear and confusion and sitting around wondering what your life is going to be. We both held a series of random jobs and for a hot second actually lived not only in the same city, but in the same apartment. We ate together and walked to work together and stayed up late talking about boys and food and politics.
Those years were the best of our twenty-something friendship.
In 2012, I left to serve two years with the Peace Corps and even a continent away, Jess was by my side. I got her emails and packages, her letters and drawings, and as a very special Christmas present, she visited and I got to hike and see a wonder of the world with my best friend. No matter what country we were exploring or what language was spoken around us or how much time passed between visits, we were always the same together. We were always ourselves together.
Those years were and continue to be the best of our lifelong friendship.
So call your best friend. Or don’t…they’ll always be around for you either way.
*Jess is her actual, real life name.