To the friend that I miss

Dear friend,

I'm angry with you. And I know it isn't all your fault--I am prepared to shoulder some of the blame. But seriously, where have you been? Weekly phone calls have ceased and you aren't even responding to my emails anymore. I'm starting to feel like a desperate, needy friend. Kind of like a role-reversal, no offense. But when you contacted me this fall I knew it was because you didn't feel like you had anyone else. And I was there. It was awkward as hell to be there for you, listening to the really adult problems you were going through and not telling you my opinion when you were backsliding a little. But you got stronger, and you got happier. Which made me so happy, you have no idea how good it feels to know that you are moving forward from this, that you're going to be okay. But really friend, I'm starting to feel like since you don't need me anymore, you're not going to make the effort to keep our friendship alive. You've done this before, and I feel like we are reverting back to our old habits.

If I've done anything, or said anything, to make you want to stay away, I'd like to know so that I can understand why this is happening. And even if it is something going on completely on your end, I'd still like to know why this relationship doesn't seem to be in existence anymore. I have plenty of spare time this semester, you don't have to feel weird about calling me, promise. I don't have to make time for you anymore, I have the time to be your friend. I didn't have that time last semester, but I made sure I was available. And now that Sarah isn't here, you are the person who I'm the closest to emotionally, and you aren't returning my calls/emails. Why, friend? I'm the one who needs you now, can't you pick up on that? I don't want a huge commitment. I just want to stay caught up in your life so I know how I can be praying for you, how you are doing. And it would be nice to have someone I can be vulnerable with... because I just don't have that without you and Sarah.

I'm sure that this letter isn't fair, I'm just venting my frustrations. I'll be okay if this thing dies again, I know I will. But I was so sure we were going to be okay this time. That this was the journey we were supposed to take, that God was a part of you coming back into my life, in a new, completely friends, no-awkwardness way. I'll be okay, but it doesn't mean it hurts less right now.

Sincerely,
Sarah