Every now and then I get to thinking about a former best friend, my roommate for three of four of my college years. We were very close (well, obviously), although probably not as close as I remember it. The friendship messily disintegrated a couple of years ago when she began dating her now-hubby; it’s a long story and really irrelevant here, anyway.
When I think about her, I get very lonely. It’s a weird kind of lonely–just the kind that says “I wish I had a girl friend like her still.” It’s ridiculously unrealistic, as she is not the kind of friend that I would now seek out. But…I miss having that kind of close, sisterly-relationship with another woman. Brian is incredible, and a marvelous mate, but he knows (and I know) that he cannot be the kind of friend a woman is. Knowwhutimean? (And I don’t expect him to–I like him manly, different than me…I would freak if he suddenly had an interest in shopping for makeup or watching Steel Magnolias with me.)
As I have grown more and more distant from my college years, I have to wonder what the likelihood is that I’ll have that kind of close female-kinship again. In college, you are squished together with thousands of others in your age group, general interests, and in the same predicament–you’re al away from home, and all without friends at your new “home.” This extreme environment causes rapid (and intense) friendship development.
But in the grown-up world, hanging with friends is Scheduled. People work, people have spouses, people have children–people have little time. Part of me wonders how many of these people are lonely for friends…
I am making new friends, and really in many (if not most) ways I am far less lonely now than I ever was in college–no matter how many people were in my group. Perhaps it is the grief of losing a friendship that had been so close that makes all of this feel worse. I dunno.
Looking back on my huge group of friends from high school - most of whom I could have called any time, for any reason, and know they’d be there for me - I have only one left that I feel close to. People grow and change, time marches on, and things just won’t be the same. It’s something I have learned to accept, although it does make me sad sometimes.
One thing I have noticed is that once you are out of school, there are significantly less places to meet people and form those tight friendships of which you speak.
And no, I don’t have any brilliant advice. I’m just agreeing with you that it’s all a big bummer.
Think I’ll go get out my old yearbooks now and play Summer of '69 …
Will you ever share the same sort of stuff? Probably not. Remember that you’re a different person now. At college/uni we’re exploring life and, more importantly, ourselves. Having a confidant to share these revelations and observations only adds to the depth of the friendship. Co-conspirators if you will.
Sadly we learn from our experiences and lose some innocence along the way. We also see a diminishment of the intensity of new sensations and ideas and passions.
To be concise (as I should have all along) - we’re different and more experienced people now. We’ll still have our close friends with whom we can share our innermost thoughts but how we interact and react has changed. Hopefully for the better, but I think it’s natural to look back a little wistfully every once in awhile…
God I sound old don’t I? Too old for my twenties at any rate.
I’ve moved a lot in recent years and I thought the same thing. Even more so when I got married and my old friends didn’t. You sit with your hubby saying, “It’s SO hard to meet married couples that we both like!”
The thing is…all couples say that. We’re all looking for friends we can hang with. (I’m not speaking for those of you who married w/i your HS clique and have all been friends forever :rolleyes: )
You’ll make couples friends usually through work or where you live, then it will all happen again because you’ll have kids and your friends won’t. You’ll ache for close girlfriends who are experiencing the same thing. The good news is that you will find them.
It’s amazing, but women seem to seek out friends, even more so, once they have children. Granted, they’re harsh…disqualifying you at a moment’s notice, but it seems like they try harder to find a way to fit you in. Strangely enough, men seem to do the same thing.
It’s all very weird sounding, I know, but rest asured that you will again have friends that you can talk to about everything!
dpr, you offer some very interesting insight that I just hadn’t quite considered before…these are friends made during the final stage of my personal development, a time of great intensity and idealism. It is only natural that I would not encounter similar friendships now. Thank you for that–it helps me understand this situation a little better.
Brunetter, there is nothing like someone who understands where you’re coming from. Your identification is really comforting, too, because it assures me that I’m not nuts for feeling this way.
dropzone, this place has been a great help to me socially as well…but I still miss having someone around in a face-to-face situation. Yah know?
Sue…thank you for the hug. I really needed that. I just have to wonder–when I get married, am I only going to want married friends?? I don’t want to abandon my single friends–esp. considering the majority of my friends are indeed single. Bleh.
I’ve journaled a little bit and find myself wanting to either Email or call my former roomie. We are cordial now, but interaction is stiff and a bit awkward–we have both seriously hurt the other and erased most trust in each other. Sometimes I worry about her, concerned for her happiness, and sometimes I just miss “playing” with her. She’s a mutual friend of both Bri and I, and it wouldn’t be out of the realm of reason for us to call her up and see if she’d like our company.
The thing is, I don’t want to be grasping at straws; I don’t want to be trying to revive something that died ages ago. Usually my thoughts are to let it go, but other times I am curious to try to rekindle. I’d like to blame hormones on that one.
It’s not like we could ever have the same friendship again, you know? And I have to wonder if I shouldn’t maybe invest in newer friends. Ah, well.
Give her a call. It may never be the same but it could be better (eventually). You’ve got a base to build on after all. Abandon all pretences and facades and call her. Tell her you miss her. Tell her you’re sorry (if you are). Make an effort. Baby steps/giant steps… the victory is in the effort.
Don’t live with regrets. Don’t leave yourself wondering what if. It’s not worth it.