Open Letter to an Old Friend

Dear Old Friend, 

You got married. I have absolutely no doubt that you looked positively stunning. I know that when you saw your groom for the first time, your eyes must have filled with tears, your heart overflowing with the purest kind of joy. Despite the hurt and anger that I'd been harboring for the past few months, I spent my Friday powering through pangs of sadness. I felt nostalgia, tenderness, and tiny moments of regret. Would you have awkwardly asked me for "wedding night" advice? How many times would I get misty-eyed? Would we exchange knowing looks at any point?

I've lived through enough to know that closure is a luxury afforded to an elite few. Our lives have been in constant flux, our circumstances often fighting against one another while at the same time aligning harmoniously. Our various insecurities, although very different, had stemmed from the same core. Perhaps it was our time, perhaps we gave up too soon. What matters is that we're no longer friends and to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about that. I just know that I wish I could have been there on your big day.

I'm upset that we never got to compare wedding dresses, I'm devastated that I haven't had your sense of humor or your corny jokes to get me through these rough past few months. I'm sorry for my unkind words and sad attempt at self-preservation. I cherish the times we spent together laughing so hard that our sides felt as if they would tear open. I can vividly recall the night we ate more than we should have and drove home with our oh-so-trendy skinny jeans unbuttoned, all the while giggling and making a pact to never judge each other for such an act. A spontaneous trip to North Jersey in search of funeral attire will forever be a favorite memory of mine. Being there for you was the biggest honor; your raw emotion was compelling. You helped me through a breakup, you helped me discover my favorite parts of me. A flurry of emotion separated us, unvoiced conflict was the crux, and pernicious words were uttered in the last breath. Neither of us can take back what we said, but I forgive you and I understand.

In the midst of all these thoughts, I came to perhaps the scariest revelation of them all: It's all part of growing up. I always wonder if I would have done things differently but I've accepted the fact that when it's time to say goodbye, it's time to say goodbye. I wish you and your husband the best, truly. Perhaps our paths will cross again, perhaps they will not. I have peace and comfort in wishing you well and knowing that you're in good hands.



  1. Replies
    1. Thank you so much Erica! It means a lot. I kinda missed writing, I'm glad that I had something to inspire me to do it again.

  2. beautiful writing. I'm actually going through this right now, with an old childhood best friend. She's getting married this summer and I wish I could be there to see it, she's actually marrying my grad date so it will be a wonderful occasion!

    1. Thank you. Times like this are so bittersweet-- you're happy for them but you also wish that you could share in these new memories. If you need anybody to talk to, I'm here.