The other day, I was listening to music as I always do, when I stumbled across a song I hadn’t heard before. It was ‘I Lost a Friend’ by Finneas. It reminded me of you, instantly.
I remember, vividly, closing my eyes as I let the song pour into my ears through my headphones. It was late at night, and I was alone in the shadows of my room casting across my stricken face. Tears fell down my cheeks, because the lyrics just resonated so much.
“I lost a friend, like keys on a sofa
Like a wallet in the backseat.”
It made me think of your laugh. It was light, and ringy, and radiated like the sun. Just like you. You were always so golden. So light, like a feather in the wind. Your hair shone like the desert sand and your smile was a promise of a better day, a better week, a better year. When you smiled, I did, too. I couldn’t help it, it was contagious. You were contagious.
“I know i’ll be alright,
But i’m not tonight,
I’ll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I’ve made,
Replaying fights”
Yes, you were radiant, but you were also fiery. I could see it brimming beneath the surface of your eyes, licking at the palms of your hands with every clench of your fist. I’d seen you laugh, but oh, I’d also seen you yell. I’d seen you scream, and say and do things you probably shouldn’t have out of anger. Out of spite. Out of hate. I’d seen how it clashed so much with me. You were as hot as the sun, but I was as cold as a winter’s night. You burned and I froze. You yelled and I shunned. I tuned you out, like a radio dial.
I remember all the things we said, and all the feelings I felt, yet I never said. See, that was the difference between you and me. You never hesitated to tell me what I did. You would be honest, so brutally honest, even if it sometimes biased. Yet I, I said nothing. I had so many things I wanted to say, that I still do, that I have never breathed from my lungs. I kept my mouth too tight, and you kept yours too loose, and that was our downfall. I didn’t communicate and you communicated too much.
“And i’ll be fine without them,
But all I do is write about them.”
And though you made my heart so cold, so icy, so sharp edged, and rugged, I can’t help it. I can’t help wondering what you’re doing at 2 in the afternoon. I see something I think you’d like, and my hands itch to send it to you. I lie in bed and think about all these things that I know only you would understand. My heart hurts, and I know you’re the only one who would listen. Because you always did. You always do.
I know I’ll be fine. Feelings fade, people move on, time passes. I’ve had worse heartbreaks that I’ve bared through. Or have I?
“I lost a friend,
I lost my mind.”
You see, the music industry is teeming with songs about heartbreak. About losing a lover, someone who was your person. Whether it was cheating, or a fight, or too many mistakes on your part, they’re all out there. There’s so much emphasis on romantic hurt, pain, that there is nothing that wrenches your heart as the person you loved not being around anymore.
Yet everyone seems to forget about friend breakups. When the person you laugh with everyday, cry with, share your soul with suddenly isn’t around anymore. We are taught that relationships can come and go, and that they can hurt, but friendships? No one ever talks about how much it hurts when you lose a friend. When you lose your best friend. It hurts worse than losing a significant other. It hurts more than anything I have ever experienced.
We had planned everything. We knew how our lives we’re going to go. We would move to Arizona together, build a life together, build our children’s lives together. We promised each other that we would never, ever let each other go. Yet at the first chance, we did. So fast, and so fleeting, and so easily.
So, when I heard this song, such a simple song with delicate lyrics and the broken voice of a person who knows how it feels, it hit me so hard. It brought out emotions I had never voiced, that I didn’t even know I had. Hurt, pain, relief, optimism, bitterness, sadness. I really felt like I had lost my mind, because I had never connected to a song so much.
I listened to it for a month straight on repeat.
I’m fine, now. I still think of you, but not as much. I still miss your laugh, but it’s a little more distant. A little more bearable. I’m moving on, I’m okay, and I’m sure you are too. In fact, I’ve seen you a couple of times since then, and I know you are. You’re okay. Hey, maybe I’ll pick up my phone and call you and tell you how much I’ve missed you. Or maybe I’ll share this weepy article I’m currently writing about you. Or maybe I’ll finally gain the courage to tell you why it went wrong, and how I went wrong. How we went wrong. How I saw the numerous red flags from the beginning but turned a blind eye to them. How it was inevitable, but still salvageable.
Or maybe, maybe, I’ll text you a simple ‘Hey’.
*In case anyone wants to listen to this beautiful song, it’s linked right here!*