We all have letters we’d like to send, but know that we can’t. A letter to someone we no longer have a relationship with, a letter to a family member or friend who has died, a letter to reclaim our power or our voice from an abuser.

Letters where actual contact is just not possible.

Do you have a letter you can’t send?

It’s almost a shame that this time of the year brings memories of you. Of losing you.

We were best friends for so long – even our families were intertwined. You, me, my brother, your brother. Our parents. I breathed out, you breathed in.

How many years did we spend on the phone, planning our outfits for the first day of school? The corduroys. The turtlenecks. One of the hottest days of the year, but we had to wear our new clothes.

A right of passage, I suppose.

I had so many hopes that our children would do the same. WE shared those hopes and dreams of our future. Together.

I watched your daughter for you when she was an infant. I didn’t have a job. I was there. I wanted to be a part of her life. Her aunt. I hoped the same would happen when I had a child.

It started off like this, but time changes things, and now there is no “Auntie *you*” for my daughter. I was losing a friend.

There is no older, seasoned best friend for her to call and chat with.

No looking back at ourselves and seeing our life unfold before our eyes with the next generation.

Time changes and does not always heal. Loss is loss and our relationship is lost.

I stumble across pictures and struggle to answer the questions. ‘Who is that, Mommy?’ she asks.

I shake my head, hear myself whisper softly.

“That was mommy’s best friend.”

I won’t cry. I can’t. But it’s sad.

My birthday approaches and I think of what we used to say. The future we used to see. And it’s gone. Disappeared like a puff of smoke. Several years ago we walked through the wrong door and never truly turned back.

I cut my losses. I don’t need a toxic relationship in my life. Despite the love. The memories. There was too much sadness to bear. You broke my heart in many ways, were not there for me the way you were supposed to be. And so, I moved on.

And I continue to. I keep going. Hold onto some friends. Think of you now and then. Sad? Yes. Wistful? Sure. Turning around and going back? No. Unfortunately that isn’t an option.

And still I’ll always remember.

You were my friend

…once.