I’ve had numerous romantic relationships end, so I know what superheroes my friends and family were to me in those times. It’s almost as if they were afraid that, if they didn’t check in and talk to me for hours on end about how stupid my ex-boyfriend was, I’d suddenly collapse and die.
They would promise to bring me food, a lot. Even in these half-assed promises, the implicit message was that they got me; my grief could take up all the space it needed. After all, they saw how happy and hopeful I had once been about the relationship.
That is the first problem that comes with going through a friendship breakup, the lack of clarity. From my experience, there is little, if any, conversation about the depth of your emotions for your friends.
It seems so obvious. Their consistent presence seems like a promise, like how the atmosphere around you will still steady your walk, whether you acknowledge it or not.
When I broke up with one of my best friends in February, it was a seismic event. I was unprepared, but even that is an understatement. It didn’t truly cross my mind that any of my friendships could end. I was only aware of the idea in theory, in other people’s lives, people who were less of the ‘fixer’ that I am.