Friendship is perhaps one of the greatest things in life. I am currently flashing back to the time I spent in Kansas, those seven great years that seem so distant. I had four best friends. They were amazing, and still are. The group of us resembled something you might see in a movie--one for all and all for one. Or something like that. I was the only one out of five that was not a true Kansan, however. I was a city girl and always have been. I had a preference for dolls, especially Barbies. My friends would choose bikes or something involving dirt any day. Slumber parties was the sole focus of my childhood years. There was nothing cooler than a slumber party, except for maybe going to the high school sporting events, which were the heart and soul of my small town. The best nights were the ones that involved a game and then a slumber party.

At these sleepovers, we would watch movies, look through high school yearbooks awaiting our turn, and giggle and eat and giggle some more. We would spread out blankets on the floor and all sleep in one big row, the five of us dreaming together about God knows what.

I kept a paper journal when I was around ten or eleven. It is hysterical and humiliating to go back and read it now. The cover has peace signs all over it. I bought it at Claire's, every tween's favorite store, and I loved it. It's the only journal I've ever filled up completely. I wrote about my friends, mostly. I tried to sound older than I really was. I attempted to create drama where there was none. I wanted my life to resemble a Dawson's Creek episode and was always slightly disappointed when it did not.

It's been five years since I've lived in Kansas. It's been two since I've been back for a visit. I was supposed to go home this summer, to see friends and attend a wedding. But I decided not to go. I made a pro and con list and the cons won out. But the list isn't really important. It's the change in all of us that sealed the deal for me to stay home.

Of those four best friends, I am now only close with one of them. The one I am close with is extraordinary, giving my heart joy and not hating me for changing my mind at the last minute. She has been loyal to me for these past five years, proving her love and support. She is what keeps me believing that friendships can truly last and be something amazing.

She asked me tonight why I changed my mind. I sensed anger in her voice, but she told her that wasn't it. I still could not escape the feeling that I had somehow betrayed her trust, that I had hurt her. And I hate that. I know what it feels like to be hurt by someone you love and I hate the fact that I did that to her.

As I tried to explain my reasoning, I realized my choice all came down to the fact that Kansas is no longer home for me. This group of girls that I was once so close with are not really my friends any longer. Such truths are a fact that I have had a hard time accepting. As a kid at a sleepover, surrounded by my best friends, I did not believe we'd ever lose our way. I did not believe we would ever grow apart. Others, perhaps; but not us. Not our group. Even when I moved here we kept in touch for a time. But time seemed to fly by quicker and quicker, and the five lives that were once so much in unison were not any longer.

When I left Kansas the last time, I was able to leave knowing that I had a place there. Now, I am not so sure. I couldn't stand the thought of being there for ten days, days full of uncomfortable silence and forced conversations about work, school, etc. So much has happened to them in the past two years, things which I have missed entirely. So much has happened to me in just the last year that they haven't seen. I suppose my biggest fear is that they wouldn't care anyway.

I believe that regardless of one's schedule, you make time for the things and the people that are important to you. We have failed to make time for one another. Our importance to one another has all but been extinguished. This is normal for friendships like ours, but still sad, at least to me.

Lately, I have been longing for that sort of community again, that feeling of complete love and loyalty and pure, unfiltered joy. I miss that feeling of knowing you have a circle of people that surround you with love and protection. There is a cynical, adult voice in me that says those types of relationships are only in adolescence. I hope I am wrong.

My friend summed it up by saying that I would come to see her, but the thought of seeing everyone else is what scares me. And she is correct. I don't feel like I mean much, if anything, to them anymore. And I don't want to fake friendship for a week. And I don't want to ruin what once was, to completely shatter those memories and images.

There was once slumber parties and Sno-Cones and the Lancaster twins. There was once walks around the track, trips to the park, and visits to Sonic. I have good memories there. I didn't want to go back there and leave with bittersweet ones.

As I tried to explain all of this to my friend, it sounded like fluff, and perhaps that's what is sounds like now. But it all feels heavy and sad in this moment, when I just so happen to feel like Kansas could not be further away.

1 Comments

at 10:25 PM  marianne said...

I know the feeling and have a place like that, too. when I left I thought I'd *have* to go back every year and keep in touch, but I haven't and they haven't and I don't even want to go back now to see how much things have changed.

 

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