There have been a few times in my life where I had that person I could without a doubt call my best friend. That person I knew I could count on no matter what. Knowing we would drop everything to make sure that the other never had to face difficulty, loss, heartbreak or any other thing we had to face alone if we didn't want to face them alone.
The last best friend I had is still on the planet but we barely speak these days. Correction, we haven't really had a conversation in years. And every once in a while (every day), I have the phantom pains of missing something that was once there. There was a trust broken and I guess believing she just left me hanging out there alone because of another's insecurity stings more now because I have all of this time to think these days. It wasn't that I felt I was more important or even as important but at the very least worth some consideration. Best friends for ten years and then one day, just like that, it's gone.
Twenty years later, I have friends. I have even found people I know, or believe could be a best friend. I have close friends, dear friends, like minded friends,and friends I'd drop everything to be there for. But no one that I feel like would be there for me come hell or high water, just because they wanted to, not because they felt obligated to. I know the reason I don't have that is mostly me. There is an ache in me that hurts everyday and the idea of another potential ache from losing someone I loved and still love results in panic attacks. The trust broken has me fearful of trusting not to be broken again.
We were not lovers we were just friends. The loss of a lover hurts a lot too, don't get me wrong, but nothing hurts like losing a friend. So I treat my friends carefully. I don't want to be too needy even though I need. I don't ask for their time and pretend not to be hurt when left out of things.
I do realize that pretending that my best friend leaving me behind, while I saw her every day, didn't hurt for ten years was the biggest lie I ever told myself. And that not opening myself up to be hurt by the people I love perpetuates that lie. So now I have all of this truth, and no one to really tell. Working out how to fix this and hoping it won't take twenty years.
