each other, time stood still. She listened intently and patiently as I dissected the person I was, the person I wanted to be, and the grand plans I had. And when the conversation stopped, complete silence felt natural. Always my biggest cheerleader, she held my secrets and my desires in life, there to encourage all of the dreams, big and small, no matter how crazy. She was my dreaming partner in crime. We filled our days planning and plotting how we would change the world; no, scratch that, how we planned to take over the world, the only way we knew how...together. The laughter between us frequently erupted like a volcano, and left an ache in my abdomen that I would wear proudly the next day. She was the first one to know everything I have to tell: all of it—the good, the bad, and the ugly. When emotions overflowed she grounded me. She had my back, no matter what, even when having my back was hard. She is the reason I was able to pull through those life circumstances I thought might kill me. There was nothing we couldn’t get through together.
Life moves in directions we never expect. Our lives eventually shifted and changed, as we grew and changed. Somehow, amidst the growing, we started moving in different directions. We woke up one day, not too sure how we even got there, to find ourselves no longer present in one another's lives. This was painful. The type of pain that you spend lots of time and energy avoiding out of self-preservation. For a long time after our separation, I thought I was angry with her. For what, I didn’t know. Sure, at the time, I could have rattled off one hundred insignificant and petty reasons. Now I know that anger is a mask for other emotions—in this case, grief. Time moved on, and brought healing. Through personal growth and self-reflection, I came to believe that despite our separation both emotionally and physically, it was impossible for me not to hold a part of her and the legacy of our friendship in my heart. Time, space and distance could never rob me of this legacy. I also learned, that, sometimes, legacies have to end so that others may begin. The legacy that was left behind in the wake of my friendship with her is one I see so clearly now. She
The PERPETUAL YOU