The missing: The summation of missing a best friend






Moving on is one of the hardest things to do. Yesterday i heard my ex best friends laugh in the street, it was distinctly hers and i missed her. My heart ached, and i gulped in the sadness, only for it to finally hit home, the feeling was not reciprocated. She knew where i was, knew where i lived, knew my passions, if she had cared enough she would have sought me out. Something would have been said in all the years of absence. It's a funny thing in life, when you think you are to someone and realize with pained reality, in many ways your not. I'd missed many things, such as a laugh a smile, the moments in the car alone where the whole world was our oyster, the debates we had when we lured the world in giving them a pinch of our thoughts. Recently i made a crazy choice, it was a stupid one to me. I'd put aside the little pride i had and in boldness took the nervous cautious steps to her old home. I remembered we wrote passionately, i bought a journal hoping that my eyes would lock on the stranger, and the ghost that haunted my memories.

Then on returning i realised the things i had wanted never came to pass, and maybe god had a reason for everything. I wanted our children to grow up knowing much of each other, going on trips, like in the home alone movies, where the kids are like family. I wanted us to travel and see a world outside the bubble of London, and i'd wanted much to introduce her to one of my heroes, my older brother. I imagined her sipping champagne with us at his country club, us laughing as we networked with mine and my sisters contacts, i imagined introducing her to my nephew Iriah and having debates with my younger brother. I had missed her much, yet i knew in reality, it had never been a friendship shared.

It's the hardest thing to say goodbye to someone you cared about. In time i am making my trip back to the Motherland, and the funniest thing, i hear her voice everywhere, her laughter, our triumphs the comments we made, and then it hit me with much clarity. I can finally let her go. It's been years, i'd make three almost bold steps towards her home, each time i returned back thinking to myself it's time to move on. Let ghosts lie. In the mind of those around me it was an epic fallout, but in my mind when the phone buzzed or rang, i still remembered the soft tone of the friend i missed.

Life is funny, you say goodbye to people with the rage you knew, and see their ghosts everywhere. Their memories haunt you in your dreams, and all the hate you once felt suddenly disappears, but life is cruel at times, for by the time it does, she's wetted her lips and is smiling at you, because she knows their already gone. I think in reality she had been my best friend, childish as it seems, but outside of that bubble i created, it had not been reciprocated. Yet we smile and look for those to fill those neatly organised gaps.

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