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Goodbye Friend

I didn’t know, when I hugged you for a quick goodbye at the airport, it would be the last time I saw you.

A small thing at first.  Unimaginably… (Is this really us?) discord, distrust, frustration, anger.

Escalate, escalate, escalate. 

A war of words and harder to believe, a war of attorneys.

Betrayal and counter-betrayal.  Trust destroyed. 

The fabric of sharing twenty years of friendship, daily phone calls, husbands, and babies--ripped beyond recognition.

Three years have passed and I seem to have forgotten to be angry.  The sadness has settled into a solid thing I know and accept.  Lately I have found myself just thinking of you, almost in the old way.  I see your favorite coffee drink and smile for a second knowing you would enjoy it.

In my best parts I pray you are not lonely.  In a secret place I hope you are a little—that you miss me too.  I had a dream about you the other night:  in it I almost ran into you, and I turned before you could see me, to hurry away in a panic.  I know that is the true reality of who we are.  We can never go back.  There could never be that level of trust.  I don’t even know if investing that much in our friendship was healthy.

Three years have passed since I hugged your neck for a quick goodbye at the airport.  I used to love you with all my heart.  For a while I hated you.  Now I feel sad.  I’m glad to finally shed tears over you and our friendship.

I never got to say goodbye, so now I do my friend.  Goodbye.