Growing Apart--Jenialyn

 

The people we meet and the friends we make, especially at a young age, usually stay in

our lives for mere moments. Many experiences in life are fleeting, and the connections we create

are no exception. However, knowing this does not dull the heartache of letting someone go.

Growing up, my best friend was my whole world. Thus, drifting apart from her sparked an

emotional journey I could have never prepared for. Even so, it is an experience that taught me

maturity and healthy relationship-building that I apply to my current relationships.

For most of my childhood, I was a timid kid that seldom approached anyone. Therefore, I

only had a few friends. They were strictly surface level, as I didn't try to emotionally connect

with others: a lack of effort they reciprocated. My fragile social circle unfazed me even as I saw

my older sister have sleepovers and parties. I simply didn’t have a desire to pursue friendship

because I was used to being alone. It wasn’t until the third grade that my view started to shift

when I met someone who compensated for my lack of effort. Marielle moved to our small

elementary school a few weeks into the new trimester. Despite my dry conversation, she

persisted, showing an unbridled determination to be friends. She broke past my shyness, making

me see a whole new world she had to offer through her companionship. Soon we did everything

together, from recess, projects, violin practice and our after school days. We were inseparable.

Unlike my other friends at that point, we talked all year round. My once empty summer days

were filled with goofy late-night to early-morning calls playing Minecraft and Roblox. Even

after I moved an “unreasonable driving distance” away, we continued to call regularly and she

helped me stay in touch with our other friends. Having never experienced a big change before,

the move was devastating. Since we spent so much time together she heavily shaped my hobbies

and behaviors, and without knowing it, I built a dependency on her. I relied on her always being

there, never needing anyone else, making me once again apathetic towards forming new bonds. I

felt a disconnect between myself and my peers at my new school. After all, no one could

compare to her. However, it wasn’t long until she became just as unfamiliar as the rest.

The following summer after I moved, I realized we were drifting apart: a notion I

previously chalked up to conflicting school schedules struck with full force in the return of the

long since forgotten empty summer days. Our once nonstop messaging dwindled. This shift in

our relationship was perpetuated by my own hand. I wanted to stay close, but it felt impossible to

do so. I unknowingly began withdrawing myself from her. She tried to keep me in her life by

introducing me to her new friends and adding me to group chats. This, however, only made me

feel all the more separated from her. Filled with jealousy, I started to spiral. Hearing about her

new life made me feel replaceable and worthless, so I took a step back. I stopped checking group

chats, we stopped playing games together, and eventually she stopped messaging. Her absence

left a gaping hole where her influence once was. That summer was an unending pity party. I

thought a lot about how I failed as a friend, how I had a miniscule impact on those around me

and was destined to be alone. So what was the point in trying? I wanted to make an impact, a

meaningful connection, but didn’t know how. I was alone. My self-confidence shattered, rising

social anxiety, and Minecraftless. It was the end of the world.

Time dragged on. Contrary to what my dramatic middle-school-self thought, the universe

was not collapsing. Through all the time and tears, I realized people naturally grow apart.

Learning this emotionally prepared me to make meaningful connections although they may be

fleeting. Additionally, understanding the impermanence of relations inspired me to enjoy them to

the fullest. I’ve built healthy relationships based on mutual effort, rather than having someone

compensate for me. Also, I am not as shy as I once was and have made and maintained many

friendships completely on my own, without the reliance of others.

Regardless of their longevity, friendships should be cherished all the same. So whether

spanning several years, or only a summer long, it can teach valuable life lessons or inspire others

to accomplish unrealized dreams. Although a part of me wishes we stayed close, this was a

pivotal point in my journey of emotional maturity and relationship building.