Time

When I got pregnant with my son, I had a very close knit, family style group of friends. My son’s father was an intregal part of that family. As it so often does, when that relationship fell apart, so did the family. I was devistated and felt very alone. I wanted to have a baby more than anything and couldn’t wait to hold my little boy. But, I’d lost the very support sytem that made those kinds of things so much fun. The “family” split along pretty predictable lines… except for one person. My very best friend. I lost her in the destruction that came with the end of the relationship. A four year family broke apart in a matter of weeks. His best friend (also close to me) and I stayed close for a while and simply lost touch when I moved across country. My best friend simply disappeared. One day, she came to see me at work, brought her 3-year-old daughter along and we went to the beach. When she left that afternoon, she gave me a hug, kissed my forehead and told me to hang in there. I never heard from her again. There was no explaination, no fight. I was heartbroken and never got over it.

Today, I found her on facebook. She and her husband share a facebook page (I was close to him too) and, on a leap of faith, I reached out to her. I told her that her little girl had grown up beautifully and that they looked very happy. To my surprise, I got a response almost right away. The conversation was breif and tense. I have no idea whether it was friendly or strained (it is nearly impossible to decipher tone on a computer) and no idea whether we will ever patch things up again. It is almost as heartbreaking today as it was 5 years ago. I still don’t know why. I still miss those big brown eyes and those crazy antics.

Her mysterious disappearance from my life has colored every friendship I’ve had since then. We were closer than blood. I taught her daughter to crawl. She knew every detail of my life. I protected her from crazed fans in the bar, even took a punch for her. I was there when her boyfriend ended up in jail for domestic abuse. She put a carseat for her little girl in my car. She gave me a key to her home. She still has the knives she took from me when I was getting better. She had my heart and soul in her hands (and Adele looks a WHOLE lot like her too, big brown eyes and all). I feel like I’ve lost a sister and it kills me.

But maybe, just maybe there will be some reconcilliation. After all, she did respond. She did say “good to hear from ya” or maybe her husband did. Either way… there is hope. Big Brown Eyes

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