My husband is fond of the idea that there are “friends of the heart” and “friends of the road.” I understand this idea in principle—that friends come and go while only some are destined to be our bosom pals—but this idea in practice is a different, far more difficult story.

I have always prided myself on being earnest in my friendships. Granted, I may not have many friends and I’m not particularly outgoing, but I like to think it’s because I really yearn for deep, sincere friendships. A testament to this is the fact that my best friends when I was four years old are still my best friends now that I’m twenty-two. But a less cheery testament to this is the fact that I tend to make the mistake of forgetting that the hearts of other people can change, even if mine does not.

This is why I always find it such a nasty shock when friends of my heart become friends of the road and quickly recede in my rearview mirror. To say I react poorly is an understatement; I always wonder what I’ve done wrong, what I could’ve done differently, what to do next. It’s a crushing feeling when someone says they don’t want you in their life anymore (and it doesn’t remotely resemble the kind of rejection that comes from a love interest—it hurts so much more). And it’s happened twice to me.

The first time was, in hindsight, mostly my fault. I was young and naive and I did not know how to reconcile her values as a gay and probably queer teenager with the conservative Christianity I thought I knew. I think I’ve just about now finally recovered and healed sufficiently; I still look back with regret, but I accept we were all young and dumb teenagers and our friendship ended with a bang.

The second time was, in hindsight, also probably mostly my fault. But I was not so young and naive and I loved the person dearly. He was my closest friend for all of ten months, drunken Friday night phone calls about existential dread and all, until I said some things I probably shouldn’t have but thought I was saying out of honesty. I don’t know if I was really being honest or if I just wanted to rock the boat, but in any case he didn’t have the maturity or understanding to address the wreckage. So we just let it sit and fester in silence. Our friendship died with a whimper. We’re still on speaking terms when forced (like at a mutual friend’s wedding), but otherwise that person I used to know probably no longer exists; he’s spent over two years growing and changing without me. I am still grieving the loss of his friendship and I don’t know when I will stop. 

Andrew and I have been able to make some new friends this summer and I already find my affection for them growing. So I have to keep reminding myself that they’re probably just friends of the road and that I shouldn’t get too invested since we won’t stick around. And I loathe that mindset. I do not want to be half-hearted in my friendships and I don’t know how to be okay with the idea that sometimes pursuing a good thing will result in pain and heartbreak when that good thing is lost.

I wrote over a year ago about the struggle of trying to find and make friends in a new place in the middle of a pandemic. Now, we’ve made some friends, but then what? The friendships I made as a toddler had years to put down roots as we spent most of our lives in close geographical proximity, so I’m not too worried as we’ve all spread out across the country and even across the globe. But I’m anxious about the friendships I’ve made now and whether they can stay intact across the volatility of space and time that seem to define adulthood.

2 Comments

  1. Geneva Dawn Langeland

    The Invisibilia podcast from NPR is doing a whole season about friendship (2 episodes out so far). Feels like a topic that’s at top-of-mind for many of us these days.

    Reply
  2. Phil Rienstra

    “I do not want to be half-hearted in my friendships and I don’t know how to be okay with the idea that sometimes pursuing a good thing will result in pain and heartbreak when that good thing is lost.”

    Yeah I’ve been wondering about this as well. I’ll let you know when I figure it out

    Reply

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