Life is a runaway train you can't wait to jump on

I had an epiphany last night. It's funny how that works... at first it seems like it comes smashing out of the blue and hits you, but when you look back you can see the rumblings of change across the landscape.

Yesterday I lost my best friend. Or, what I thought was my best friend. It's funny how people change. That's what I get for choosing a chameleon for a partner in crime. What is more strange is how little the impact really is in the aftermath... there are those rumblings again. I guess you could say I saw it coming.

We met over psychology and students in a random college auditorium one day. We were very different then, but somehow we fell into a fast friendship that hinged on coffee and ruckus days... college projects and observations. She became close to my children, and they began to look up to her. Over the years she became like a spouse, coming to holiday dinners at the parents, planning birthday parties for my children, spending long hours at the mall, sharing teary secrets on late night drives around a small town. She was a friend that became a sister - and we shared too many things to list on this tiny little blog.

We don't fit like that anymore. I saw things that I didn't see before, watched as she became someone else, became like someone else, to please someone else. When that exploded, I ran to pick up her shattered heart and began the process of gluing those tiny little pieces back together. Tried to make her stronger, wiser. And then she did it again. And threw me under the bus for it. I felt like there was a perception of competition, a jealousy that need not exist. I did not, and would not, take what was hers. I didn't want it to begin with. Even then, we patched the holes in our little boat and marched forward a couple more years...

See, I loved her. I love her still. The girl she was. I don't know the woman she is now, that belongs as half of another... she has taken on traits of another life that is different from mine. In place of loving my children, she now complains about them. She shows up for our girls night with him as well. Instead of standing up for what she loves, she pushes it aside for the wishes of another. She creates a new life from the pieces of his, and I do not belong to it. I wish her well. It breaks my heart that she has not mastered the art of integrating both pieces of her, but I will not stand silent while she tears me down as part of a unit... only because she is not strong enough to speak for herself. So here I am, waving goodbye on the front porch alone. I will miss her.

I will miss you.