Uni common rooms are quite handy places. Sure, they’re usually too warm and would instantly become cramped if everyone started using them, but to the part of the student body that frequents them they provide convenient meeting places and all-too-valuable places to sit. They may not be the best places to hang around and kill time ‘working’, but the absence of overpriced lunch food does agree with my bank account. Common rooms seem designed to meet basic requirements and comforts, so they should be generally pleasant places, right?
Of course, these rooms only function when everybody you need is in the general area. If one of your group took the plunge to study abroad or moved away permanently, you won’t find any way to bring you all together in a common room, no matter how comfortable the chairs are. From gathering around a table (that almost always has an empty seat on one side just to emphasise the absent person) to reaching a time of day when you’d usually be together, the void of a distant friend is subtly yet constantly present. It can be a draining, even destructive situation, but it’s one we’ll likely all face eventually – how do we handle it?
To start, never forget the reality of ‘long-distance’. What may appear to be an incomprehensible barrier is exactly the opposite; your friend isn’t beyond reach, lost forever, but still very much around. I think we all have some tendency to conceive the world as only being what we encounter on a regular basis, and any deviation into unfamiliar territory becomes a momentary ‘adventure’, quickly completed. The rest of the world exists during your travels around London, and your friend notices your absence as you do theirs.
Many people will suggest taking advantage of the twenty-first century and using the Internet to keep in touch, and rightfully so. Messaging and phone calls certainly go some way to addressing the issue, however using them as solutions in themselves only papers over the cracks – these fixes are never as long-lasting as we’d like them to be. They assume that the way to resolve the problem is to bring the friend back somehow and then it’ll all be fine – purely wishful thinking, unfortunately. For some, it may be enough to occasionally hear from a friend, yet others are more affected by the change and feel the absence more harshly. Texts don’t suffice.
For these more sensitive people, I suggest something quite demanding – to embrace the change. As I mentioned, the gaps left by an absent friend in your daily life are ever-present, yet they could easily be filled by widening your social circle. I’m not suggesting cutting yourself off from your current group or even your long-distance friend, merely that you should take control of the changes happening around you and meet new people. Social media will allow you to stay in touch across the distance until you can see each other again, and if you both create new relationships in your areas then not only will the time until your great reunion pass much more quickly, but you’ll both be in better frames of mind when it does come around. There’s no need for ‘replacement’ or ‘radio silence’.
One thing to bear in mind as you’re left in London, and it might seem ironic given the issue, but your friend needs their space. Hounding them for details about their ‘new life’ is a fast-track to disaster, as is getting jealous of the new friends they’ll inevitably make. Let them live their lives and appreciate the opportunities you receive to chat when you get them, just as you did before they left.
Permanent relocation is, of course, much more serious than a temporary move. It’s unfortunate, but life throws up unexpected challenges sometimes, and as difficult as it may be to accept you both need to act to reduce the damage the move will do. It’s entirely possible to stay in touch, but it’s equally possible that you’ll naturally drift apart in your new situations – be prepared to move on in a peaceful way, and value the good times you were fortunate enough to have in the past.