If you live far from home, you don’t constantly miss your family. It’s too hard, so you become kind of numb to their absence and only sometimes feel pangs (especially when I’m sick or nostalgic). I talk to them every week to bridge the distance and see them on special occasions a few times a year. This all seems very normal too me.
But it sometimes shocks me how much I miss old friends. I forget to actively miss them on a regular basis, because the holes they leave in your life are filled by other friends (unlike family). Then I see them and the friendship is rekindled and when I say goodbye, the loss of their company is fresh and sharp again!
Last weekend I reconnected with my good friend from California (well, Moldovia, but she lives in Cali now.) We skied together in Vail and relived our many shared memories, which I had stashed away. Now I miss not only her, but that whole part of my life.
Then last night I chatted for two hours with one of my best college friends who has lived in London the past few years. I’ve seen him several times, but not enough. But after a good talk, I felt close to him again, like I had my friend back. And immediately after hanging up, the sadness withdrawal of knowing I wouldn’t see him or talk to him again for awhile set in.
The swell of nostalgia is nice, because it proves these relationships are real and meaningful. But, in a way, these brief reunions add salt to the wound. It reminds me of how fragmented your life becomes as you grow up and how you can never recapture the intimacy of a specific time. Just like your childhood BFF, you grow apart from your closest friends as you make your way in the world. On the other hand, this unattachment allows you to meet incredible new fascinating people.
Either way, I will jump on any chance to see an old friend. Even though it leaves me with a heavy heart, it’s totally comforting and makes me feel whole.
