Everyone always associates heartbreak over breaking up with a significant other. But what happens when that breakup is with your friend? Or more specifically, your best friend?
It hurts. It hurts like hell. It may even hurt more than breaking up with a significant other — because you loved this person in a different way. This person was your confidant. The one in all your memories. The person you went to with all news, good or bad. They were the source of your inside jokes. The one you went to that great concert with. The one you ate those great cheeseburgers with. They were your person.
And then, they’re just gone.
Of course, you can have all of these memories with a significant other as well. But a best friend is something else. They may have been there first, they may have been there longer — they were your best friend, the person you never thought you’d lose, no matter what.
And then it happens. Maybe it happened after one big fight that the two of you couldn’t resolve. Maybe it’s been accumulating for a while, and you reached the final straw. Maybe lying was involved. Maybe actions didn’t match words. Maybe you thought you were closer to that person than you actually were. Whatever the reason may be, things ended — and they probably had to end for your own well-being.
It doesn’t feel right now like it was for the best, but deep down, you know that you had no other choice.
But it hurts. It really, really hurts. You hear a song on the radio and you want to Snapchat it to your best friend. You hear a story and you fight the urge to pick up your phone to text it to your best friend. You see something in a store, and you almost buy it for your best friend.
But your best friend isn’t your best friend anymore. And that’s a really hard thing to remember. And a really hard thing to move past. You’ve lost the one person you thought would always be there. The person who you went to with everything — big, small, in the middle, it didn’t matter. You spoke daily, even when one of you were out of the country. Your best friend probably knew you better than you knew myself, and vice versa.
Your best friend can break your heart. And you can break your best friend’s heart. What do you do then? What do you do when you’ve tried to rectify things, and you just can’t? Do you just walk away? That seems so much easier said than done, but is it the right decision?
What I do know is that it hurts. It really hurts. And you cry. And you’ll see or hear something that reminds you of them and it’ll make your stomach drop. You’ll wonder if you made the right choice. You’ll wonder why your friendship wasn’t enough to last, when you really thought it would.
Yes, you’ll think of all the bad stuff that got you to this point. But you’ll also think of all of the good things. But instead of smiling over them, it stings, because it’s all gone. Because you won’t have any more of those memories. Because your best friend is gone. Your go-to person is no longer there.
Some of you are probably thinking, why can’t you just fix this? It’s not always possible. Sometimes, things just can’t be fixed as much as you wish they could be. And as much as you wish you can change things, you just can’t.
But at the end of the day? You’ll still love and care for your best friend, like you always have. That love doesn’t just go away. You truly cared about this person, and that doesn’t just disappear, even though it would be much easier if it did.
Maybe one day I can look back on losing my best friend and see it as a learning experience. But I’m not quite there yet, and you may not be quite there yet either. Just know that it is possible to feel heartbreak from losing a friend, especially when that person was your best friend. And if you do hurt, know that it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to get it all out and talk about things. It’s all okay, and hopefully, it’s all going to be okay as well.
To my best friend, if you’re reading this, I really wish things didn’t end like they did. I wish things didn’t end at all. I miss you. I love you. And I hope you’re doing well.