To the Girl Who I Wish I Had Known Better: A Lesson Learned

Oh goodness, where does one even begin?

I can still recall when we first became friends. It honestly feels like an eternity ago; but from that first moment, I knew we would be really close. Not only because I liked you, but because we seemed so much alike. Simultaneously, I saw myself in you and thought, this is someone I want to be a fixture in my life forever.

As we grew in our friendship, we discovered that we had so many commonalities. Many of my favorite adolescent experiences were made possible because of you. The times we spent at each other’s houses. The books we read together. The stories we imagined. Not only did we experience so much together, but you did a lot for me too. You helped in ways that no other friend has. Your kindness meant the world, which is why I found it so hard to be upfront about everything.

You would think that one would be bold enough to correct someone. Or just say something–especially in a friendship that has lasted so many years. Confrontation is a skill I’ve always struggled with. One of the main reasons why I never said anything was because I didn’t want you to get mad at me. Stupid, I know. But I cared about you so much–despite everything you did to me–that I was willing to brush aside your actions.

I know you’re confused. So confused as to why I’m making such a big deal about it now. However, in all honesty, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t keep lying to myself, saying, “I’m okay,” with everything when I’m not. It was building up for years, and I reached my breaking point.

There’s no specific thing that was a red flag; rather, it was the culmination of years worth of tension and actions that spoke louder than words. I think my issue was that it was so easy to forgive you, you know? So easy to push everything to the back of my mind because you were my friend. In a way, I guess it is my fault for not saying anything first. But as everything happened, I could not for the life of me figure out what I did wrong.

I’m sorry if I did do something wrong. Something to offend you. Something to make you upset with me. I don’t know if you could tell, but throughout our friendship, you hurt me in ways I didn’t realize until much, much later. It was so obvious that you were mad at me. From the passive-aggressive nature to the times when you stopped talking to me for no reason–it was so obvious. Even though I did come to this realization, I was afraid to ruin what we had. Despite how you acted sometimes, there was some good there.

However, just because something is good sometimes doesn’t mean that it needs to be a part of my life.

Am I an awful person for not wanting you in my life anymore? Is this injustice to our friendship? Am I throwing away something that I should keep?

Since our last conversation, I’ve been thinking a lot about us and even more so about letting people go. The older I get, the more I realize that I have changed. Change was something I used to reject because it’s uncomfortable and awkward. However, now, I’ve learned to embrace it with open arms. And with change, it’s just natural and normal for people to grow apart. Yes, maybe our actions towards each other played a part, but I genuinely believe that we both are different people now.

I think everyone struggles with letting people go because people hold such a huge significance in our lives. I want to reiterate that you really are kind. You were good to me. We had a lot of good times, but I’m not the girl you used to know. My view of life is different now. My view of the world is different too. The things I value in life and my relationships are things that did not exist in ours.

It makes me really, really sad to say but I don’t think that we knew each other well. Our friendship was strong, but there was no sustenance. When I think about it, I don’t know much about you. At all. We were friends for so long, and I don’t even know your favorite color. Do you know mine?

Do you know I write poetry?

Do you know how broken I was after my aunt and grandmother died?

Do you know anything about me? The fact that I love to read does not count–I tell everyone that. That is the first thing that slips past my lips when people ask, “What do you like to do?”

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that letting people go is okay. Holding on to the memory of you isn’t helping me because what do I even miss? You never were completely real with me. I guess you weren’t comfortable sharing everything. And it’s fine–I get it. You don’t have to share anything, but that is what I crave in my relationships. Vulnerability and intimacy is something I don’t want to reserve only for my significant other. I want to be that way with friends too.

Everyone deserves to be seen.

My hope for you is that you find people you can be authentically yourself with. You can tell people things, you know? I’m honestly a bit jealous of the people who will get to know about all the boys you used to love, as well as the things that keep you up at night. We just weren’t those people for each other, and that is okay.

I also hope that you can forgive me. For everything I did or didn’t do. I told you that I want to have peace in all facets of my life. Life is short, and time is precious to me.

You will always have a place in my heart, and I hope that you understand how thankful I am for you.