Not Broken Enough

On Monday night, I lost my best friend of 26 years.

I am not completely sure that this sentence even makes sense yet. No. I am sure. It doesn’t make sense at all.

If you knew us all those years ago, we were a force of nature. She was the perfect naughty compliment to my sweet, mostly innocent, 16 year old self. She dyed her short hair dark and wore black eyeshadow and I brushed my long, golden locks 100 times per day and applied my sparkly pink lip gloss more often than I took breaths. But somehow we were perfect. She taught me how to be a little naughty and I…well, I don’t know if I ever taught her anything. I hope I did.

Girl friendships, especially in the teenaged years, are complicated. They can be painful and petty and fake. But ours wasn’t. There were bumps in our road but not until we were older and other people infiltrated our bubble. She moved to another state, and then another one and we never lived in the same place again. But we did the damn thing. We called. We visited as much as we could. We both got married, had kids, did the whole thing. And we were still us. And we had Friendsgivings and Girls’ Weekends and late night phone conversations that left us bleary-eyed and satisfied the next day. Our kids became closer and our lives were somewhat parallel. And when one of us needed a shoulder or someone to just scream about shit to, we were that for each other.

So, we didn’t have each other every day. And sometimes that felt like a loss in and of itself. But we had each other when it mattered. And I loved her. And women friendships can be complicated and petty and fake too. But ours never was. My love for her was (IS) big and fierce but it was also a place of peace, of stability. Because so much changed over the years, but that love never did.

So less than 72 hours ago, my best friend left me. Really left me. For the first time in 26 years. And I might be in shock right now because I feel so, SO broken but somehow not broken ENOUGH. And people are asking, “How are you holding up” and I honestly don’t even know what to say. I hear her little sarcastic-ass voice in my ear that says, “Hey. It could be worse, bitch. Look where I am!” But is being where she is so much better than being here without her? I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around a world without her in it. The colors just aren’t the same.

That is all for now. Thanks for reading. Hug your bestie.