I saw an old friend from a distance at Walmart tonight. I haven't talked to this old friend in...almost two years, I think. As far as I know, our friendship ended because we grew apart, which isn't too uncommon among childhood friends. I think we started seeing the world in different ways, and unfortunately those contrasting opinions were exaggerated when we were roommates for a little while. (Also, I know it's partly because we chose to align ourselves with opposite factions in our old set of friends, back when all that drama was important to us both.)
It's natural for people to grow apart and for old friends to lose touch. It's natural to choose to spend time with people you have a stronger bond with than "we went to Sunday school together." I know this, and I feel no resentment about how we've drifted. I do feel a measure of regret, though. I was passive when I ought to have spoken, and I was unyielding and unkind when I didn't really meant to be.
But there was a time, and it doesn't feel that long ago, when we were incredibly close. We were confidants, we were allies, we were friends. We laughed so so much together; we shared music and movies and dreams. Our friendship started when we would secretly pass notes during Children's church, and it survived so much for so many years. Then, it just sort of...petered out. The unresolved nature of the end of our friendship has always left me feeling unsettled. I feel like I should fix something, but I don't know how or if it is too late.
Anyways, I saw this friend tonight at Walmart. I was standing at the jewelry counter, helping a customer with a return, and I saw this friend walk out from one of the makeup aisles and then down another. I felt a jolt of shock--I didn't even know they were in the country, much less in Fairfield--followed by total fear that this friend would see me. In general, my first instinct when I see anyone I know from my "real life" is to hide. I'm actually pretty embarrassed that I work at Walmart, with my expensive degree and high GPA and all that. But then she turned away, apparently without seeing me. I finished with the customer and walked back to the fitting room, feeling incredibly unsettled.
My coworker asked why I looked so upset, and as I tried to give the spark-notes version of the story, I realized what is really bothering me. It's not so much that we haven't talked in a couple of years. I recently ran into another old friend, also at Walmart, and it was perfectly nice. It wasn't that I was still mad about whatever I was mad about back in 2009. And it wasn't that I wished we could be close again, and I regretted the missed opportunity to reconnect. Well, not entirely.
What upset me most is that I suddenly realized how hurt I feel that this friend didn't say anything to me, or reach out in any way, after my dad died. I remember thinking, after everything happened, that she and a couple of other people would. Even though we weren't as close as we used to be. I mean, this friend knew my dad as well as I know hers; we were friends for thirteen years. I don't think minor disagreements and not being facebook friends can negate all of those years of friendship. Or how we helped each other survive high school. Or the countless deep conversations we had. Or our adventures. I still care about this friend, I still wish her well. I thought...I had hoped...that she felt the same way.
And I know, without a doubt, if the situation had been reversed I would have been there. If, God forbid, someone in her family died, I would absolutely be at the funeral. I would reach out and offer my friendship, my sympathy, my shoulders to cry on: whatever I could give. Because that's what old friends do, no matter what.
Because it is the right thing to do.
Because moments of sudden tragedy make all of those disagreements, those huge barriers, those devastating social slights, seem like nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
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