A Note to My Ex Best-Friend

Usually I am really good with the whole writing thing, but right now I am kind of at a loss here. I have been wrangling with the idea of reaching out for the past year, but I just haven’t figured out what I would actually say. “Hey, I was watching Psych and thought of you.” Or, “Did you know that I am actually going to Alli’s wedding?!” Trivial conversations that seem slightly inappropriate after five years of silence.

Instances, things I have done and/or said pop into my mind, as I wrack my brain piecing together why our friendship fell apart. For the better part of four years we were inseparable. We had a good thing going: captains of the 2011 JV soccer team, our trio-corner in microbiology, playing Lonely Island songs over and over again. Yes it was a high school friendship, but I really thought it was going to transcend those four years.

It was a tale as old as time: going to two vastly different colleges, different environments and lifestyles. I know I didn’t necessarily like OU – maybe you felt the same way about Miami. Or maybe it was that stupid summer during our freshman year. Whatever happened, happened. Just know that whatever happened wasn’t to hurt you, or be spiteful; it had no meaning. But I am sorry – truly sorry – if that was what led to our downfall.

I know you are happy – from what my mom hears from yours. I don’t know if your mom tells you anything, but I am happy as well. The point is, everything is in the past. I just want you to be happy. We both changed in college; but that doesn’t mean that we had to change the course of our friendship.

I know we live miles and miles apart, but I wouldn’t hate having you back in my life. My mom went through something similar, reconnected with her high school girlfriends, and says she regrets not doing it sooner. I see you have a better relationship with your mom, which is awesome! And you and your brother seem really close. I do enjoy seeing the fam outings at the different breweries you guys go to.

Maybe I will finally grow a pear (remember the Kesha concert….yikes) and text you. Every time I hear, “Like a Boss” or see an episode of “Psych,” I think of you. Selfishly, I hope you miss me too. If not, then I hope you are doing well and wish you nothing but the best.

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