As I near forty, I've started to see friendships in a different light. When I was younger, connecting with people felt rather effortless. Friendships just happened, and I assumed they'd last, not a lifetime but at least as long as possible.
We went through ups and downs together. And when they start to fade, it's difficult to restore them.
I recently lost a friend I'd known for over 25 years. It's strange to even write that—twenty-five years of friendship. We'd been not that close since our teenage years, but as time grows on we grew fonder for each other's company, then when we were older, we shared life's highs and lows. But as life does when you get older, life gets complicated. People marry, start families, and create their own worlds. My friend's spouse began to feel uncomfortable with our friendship, maybe a bit jealous, and I didn't want to intrude on their relationship.
I chose to step back, hoping we might reconnect when things settled down. But stepping back turned out to be more permanent than I expected.
Now, I'm left without any close friends, and that feels heavier than I'd imagined. I used to see life as a journey where we walk alongside people we care about. But now, it feels like I'm moving forward alone, and that makes everything seem a bit emptier. There's an unexpected hollowness in realising that I've let go of so many people over the years, little by little, and that some of those connections are gone for good.
Perhaps this is just part of growing older? But it's difficult to shake the sense of loss. Losing touch isn't just not having someone to grab a coffee with or talk things over; it's losing a part of yourself that was tied to those memories and moments. It really hurts.
I think friendships aren't things you can replace as life changes - they're something you have to protect, something that gives depth to the everyday. More than ever I now feel how precious they are.
sadly it's taken losing my last one to truly understand that.
Perhaps it's a matter of seeing it differently?
Perhaps the "losing a part of yourself that was tied to those memories and moments" part can be recast as freedom to explore one or more new roles?
I say freedom due to noting the word 'tied' in your statement that I quoted, and remembering that "tied" has restrictive/constrictive implications.
Or perhaps model that part of yourself as a scab? Sure, it's a loss. But how do you experience the new skin without that loss?
Something like that.