Reunited

I just reunited with my long lost childhood best friend. Literally, we just got off the phone a minute ago. I'm floating with happiness. Floating I tell you, and I don't float.

How can I possibly describe these feelings of affection that I have for a person whom I haven't spoken to (with exception of the day that I attended her father's wake and the time that she attended my mother's) in seven years? It's truly amazing. I had no idea how much I missed her.

This is a person who knew my deepest, darkest 10th grade secrets. The girl who was with me when I bought my first pair of black pumps, the ones I wore with frilly socks and pinch-rolled jeans. She lived down the street from me and we were always finding reasons to go meet in the middle. We were together when we first fell in love with our boyfriends and subsequently got our hearts broken. We complained about our parents and dreamed of a future when we would move out of their houses into our own apartment where we would have fabulous parties and have our boyfriends sleep over whenever we wanted. We drank our first wine coolers together and if one was wearing blue mascara you could be certain the other one was too.

And the only reason that I can remember that Alf quote that I included in my previous post is because it was our little joke. If she called and asked what I was doing I'd say "I'm standing here wearing a blue dress". Then she'd say "I'm coming over, don't go anywhere." To which I replied "I wouldn't, I don't have the shoes." I know it's silly, but now you know why I still remember it fondly. (Serendipitous that she picked today to call me, wouldn't you say?)

We were inseparable.

Then we grew up, and we grew apart as old friends sometimes do.

It started gradually. First, upon returning home after graduating from college, my friend, J., would snicker at my choice of fashion. I had gone grunge and she was still sporting a modified version of the style we wore in the late 80's, but now it was 1994. She was still Def Leppard and I was decidedly Pearl Jam. She laughed at my sandals, calling them Jesus shoes. I told her that the ozone called and it wanted her to stop spraying her hair with Aqua Net.

That was the first rift. Small, yes, but it speaks volumes of the directions our lives were taking.

We both had fiances by this time and soon we would each get married. J. was first. She and her new husband set up house in a nearby town while I was dreaming of getting out. But then I, too, got married and settled into my own new home in my old hometown. Our lives seemed set. J. seemed to like it that way while I was secretly dying inside. But by this point I didn't feel like she was listening when I was trying to tell her that. Or maybe, in hindsight, I wasn't doing a good job of expressing myself.

She and her new husband were hanging around with people I didn't care for and I felt like I was getting pushed out of her life, so I started to back away on my own terms. We were still friends and contacted each other regularly but we were by no means as close as we once were. She got pregnant and I don't remember being there for her as much as I should have been. Then there was the final straw...

After giving birth to her daughter, while still in her hospital room, J. said to me "Now you have to have a baby." I didn't want children at the time and I told her that. She got angry with me. Wasn't this our plan? We were supposed to get married and have children and live close to each other so our kids could grow up together. To me those were the plans of a 15 year old girl. The 25 year old woman I had grown up to be wanted nothing to do with those plans. We didn't speak much after that.

Then I separated from my husband. I was running toward the exit and leaving everything behind. I wanted a clean slate, a new life. When the dust cleared I realized that I didn't really want to leave everything behind. I missed my friend so much, but as the years went on it got harder and harder to pick up the phone to call her. What if she's mad at me? It's been three years, then four, then five... How do you call someone after seven years and pick up where you left off?

But that's exactly what we did. After seeing my sister a week ago and getting my phone number from her she called me today, and it was as if I had been speaking to her every week for the past decade. Nothing had changed. It was wonderful. I told her that and she agreed. She told me that I sounded exactly the same. I think she was crying.

We're going to get together soon and I suspect there will be many tears and hugs when we do. I also suspect we will pick up exactly where we left off with the jokes and the old stories. And I bet that if I bring up Alf and the blue dress she'll know exactly what I mean. Because that's what best friends do.

That just made my heart jump. I have a best friend. Again.