"It might be a bit harsh to say this. But you know, some relationships, once they are broken are irreparable. Some people once they drift away it means they are gone." My friend Tina told me on the phone. "This is the sad fact of life. Sometimes we need to acknowledge this and move on."
It was interesting that she was telling me this, because she is one of my oldest closest friends who is "still there". We've known each other for 12 years now, and we talk on the phone or online every so often. Sometimes every few months, sometimes every few weeks, sometimes a few times a week. It doesn't really matter, there is no pressure to keep in touch, but there is motivation to do so whenever we are bored or randomly think of one another or have something profound to discuss.
Tina was telling me this because I was complaining to her how I miss those people who have drifted in and then out of my life, how I wish they would reply to my e-mails or call me or still care about me.
This is the way my young adulthood has been, a constant struggle of balance between holding on and letting go. I know the ideal frame of mind I should go about dealing with these things, but knowing is different from doing.
Fundamentally nothing lasts. Not even our visit to this life to this earth. Yet knowing this, we go against the tide, we are constantly on the search for lifelong connections (many people search for this in the form of a lifelong romantic partner).
Sitting on the corner of Cayuga and Cascadilla downtown, Shayna and I discussed various connections. Those hypothetical, those current, those past, and our tendency to want things to last forever or last a lifetime, and why we are so. And I realized that two years ago I didn't know Shayna, but now she is a wonderful presence in my life. And although I hope our friendship will last forever, I know it won't. And I remember all the connections these few years that were built after connections destroyed or faded. Is it that some relationships have to die for others to be born?
Sometimes I think it is the fear of having to face the reality of ourselves that drives us to seek something permanent. As if we could conquer the short span of life with something that looks and feels like forever. As if once there was someone out there who had known us for long enough and well enough it would resolve the question of knowing the ins and outs of ourselves. As if we could avoid thinking about the meaning (of lack thereof?) of life, if we were in constant pursuit of lasting connections. I hypothesize that if we were strong enough, it wouldn't matter how long each relationship lasted. We would cherish each one for what it was throughout its duration, and end them with open hearts and minds. But I am not strong enough, not yet, and so I still sit down and write that lengthy e-mail to that dear friend I miss but haven't heard from in 3 months, and hope for a response...
