You were my first real best friend. I’d had good friends before–ones that I spent a lot of time with, or went to their birthday parties, or had sleepovers with–but you were the first friend that I think I counted as my BEST. We were attached at the hip. For the most part, people didn’t see one of us without the other. I remember us only fighting once, and it was a doozy, but that was the only time. We hung out at each others’ houses. Our sisters became best friends too.
My world fell apart when you moved away. That may sound melodramatic, and maybe it is, but that’s how it felt. Third grade ended, you moved away, and my world ended. You see, everyone else in our grade had formed their little social cliques that year. I’d missed that completely (and didn’t even realize I had until a few months later), because it had always been the two of us. So after you moved away and summer ended and fourth grade started, that was when my life started sucking. A lot. Those three years–fourth, fifth, and sixth grades–were the worst of my life, because I had no friends and I despised the only clique that would tolerate me. Sometimes I wonder how everything would have been different if you hadn’t left.
I don’t blame you. It’s not like you had a choice. It’s just something I’ve thought about. And I love the friends I’ve had since middle school, and the friends I have now. I wouldn’t give them up for anything. I may not have had them if you’d stayed. I guess that’s how things need to happen. You need to lose one loved thing to gain another.