It was 2010, and a lot had just happened in my life. I had lost my dad fairly suddenly. I broke up with my boyfriend who I had been dating for years and I graduated university.
To say I was vulnerable was an understatement. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was spinning out in different ways. Taking out the lack of control in my life and the frustration I was feeling on my innocent body. I wanted it to be perfect, and with that came dangerous ways of making it so.
Long story short, after my sister found a pamphlet for breast implant surgery in my desk drawer – side note, no clue HOW she ever found this – and her expressing how terrible of an idea it would be for me to make a permanent decision in the temporary state I was in.
With her encouragement, I decided to spend that money on something else. I booked a Contiki tour to Greece. Alone.
I needed to reset and even though my family was terrified at the idea of me setting off into the world solo, they knew I needed it too. And so, like they always do, supported me.
One day at my part time job, a girl who I hadn’t really spent a lot of time getting to know, asked me why I booked two weeks off. I flippantly told her I was going to Greece alone on a Conitki tour (as if this was something I did all the time, meanwhile I was terrified). She looked at me and said “wait, what? You’re going alone?”
I honestly didn’t know how to respond.
I was somewhere between a super cool solo traveler who was forging my own path and a scared, broken girl, who was running away. But, we don’t always bare our souls, so I just replied yep, alone as I filled my tray of drinks for table 12. After I saw her again later that night she had more questions, when was I going? Where exactly was I going? All these questions made the adventure seem more real and I just asked her – do you want to come? Knowing she wouldn’t.
She looked at me with her big brown eyes and said “yes”.
We paused and smiled. Even though I was so excited to have another person on the trip with me who was somewhat familiar, at the least not a serial killer. I knew after feeling a lot of disappointment at this time in my life that it was highly unlikely she would come. Well that’s because I didn’t know Andy. The next day she went to her travel agent, and called me to confirm I was okay with her hitching a ride on my adventure bandwagon. I was in shock. But I confirmed I wanted her to come, and she booked.
It was as if someone was looking out for me at this time, and was equally as afraid as my mom was that I was going overseas alone.
And so the trip commenced.
We had separate flights and arrived at different times – I arrived first just to have that solo feeling I thought I needed. Which meant just enough time to walk out into the big market square and almost get mugged. I fought the urge to run back to my room and hide.
But Andy came later in the evening and as two girls who didn’t know each other at all, we weren’t really sure how shy we had to act as we undressed. So I set the mood. I bared it all, and decided that no matter what happened on this trip, it was my trip. I would be exactly who I was inside and out, unapologetically.
We traveled on.
The second day we met our fellow travelers, and went out that night to a club in Athens. Drank a little too much and danced as if it was our last day to move. We woke up tired, hung over and sore from wearing heels all hours of the night. We had photos of me sitting on the pavement feeding pizza to a stray dog, it was freedom.
I began feeling a closeness to Andy, it was almost instantaneous. It was like we were lifelong friends. We filled in each other’s weaknesses. I literally carried her suitcase up flights of stairs because all of our hotels lacked elevators. And I pride myself in being strong. Insert arm flex here. But more than that, we shared an immediate closeness and I couldn’t be more grateful that on a quest to find myself, I found a best friend.
We were having the trip of a lifetime.
Island hopping, experiencing a new culture, taking chances and living together, we had shared so many experiences.There had been tears over my recent loss, emails sent to my ex- boyfriend that he probably could have lived without. I missed him and wanted him back and he had made it clear that if I went on this trip, he would never be my boyfriend again. I felt like I had made my bed, but it didn’t stop me from trying.
Andy was there for it all. We almost got matching tattoos to commemorate the trip. I almost wish we had.
After the trip, I felt like a piece of me was healed and even though the time period was short, I was able to slip into the next phase of my grief which was acceptance.
I accepted my losses and felt determined to start the next chapter of my life with the best version of myself. Lucky for me, Andy lived down the street from me. It felt like a friendship fairytale, and I was grateful we would resume our friendship once we got back home. And we did.
We were more like family than friends.
We talked about everything, knew each other’s families. Spent time just watching tv together. It was beautiful. It remained this way for years. Sadly, as this story is about loss, our friendship abruptly ended. We had an argument, and even though we had so much between us, our friendship broke. I wanted so badly to salvage it, but I could tell that it was not mutual. And that broke a piece of my heart. After trying to meet up a few times after this, I got the hint that she would prefer I stopped pushing.
It was confusing and felt like a break up.
A few months later, 7 to be exact, I saw she was expecting a baby on Facebook. And when I realized she hadn’t felt compelled to share this with me the moment she found out. Or even over the past few months, I began to realize she was serious about not being friends. I literally shot up in bed, scaring my husband and broke down in tears. Of course, this was confusing for him and I couldn’t explain. I just asked him to hold me close and let me cry. So he did.
And I defeatedly put my effort to rest.
I learned a lot from this loss. I learned how much you can love a friend. It was a really hard experience to go through and I don’t think the loss of friendship is talked about enough.
Unlike romantic breakups where the “rules” seem somewhat clearer. Friendship breakups are ambiguous and the hope that maybe you will get “Back together” lingers for years after. I must say, there is no hate. Although I felt hurt, I more so felt confused. Confused that the relationship couldn’t bear the strain of one big argument. That my good didn’t outweigh my bad in the end. It is something I will never quite feel at peace with, but like I had to in past losses, I moved to the second stage of my grief. Acceptance.
Admittedly, I often think about her.
I hope that things worked out for her and that she is happy. However, there is an emptiness when I think of her and as I share my story with people, I believe many women can relate to this.
This loss has truly taught me the value my long-term friendships hold. Friends that stick by you through the good and bad times in your relationship are ones to hold close to your heart.
“Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be together. I’m glad for that” – Ally Condie
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