Gifts from Friends I Don't Talk to Anymore

On friendship breakups - a topic on the rise but still not discussed nearly enough

There’s this recurring hallmark movie type fantasy I have when I walk by a baseball field not too far from my house. I imagine that I’m about 15 years older, about to watch my child have some kind of sports practice or game with their buddies. I’ll sit on a bench with my mom friends and catch up, and pass out snacks for the kids. We’ll all get ice cream afterwards, win or lose. Maybe my kid’s best friend, their mom and I will head back to one of our houses for takeout and a movie.

I like my life now, and the communities I belong to, but I also really yearn for this one. The calmness and stability I imagine it might bring.

A month or so ago - I talked about a memory from the college application process in my essay, Dinner Party Dreams, another post about friendship. An alumni interviewer fondly told me that she and some of her close friends all still live nearby each other in their college town, and that they hang out on someone’s porch every single Sunday. I could envision the scene instantly, and have cherished it ever since. It became a bit of an aspiration and longing of mine. In college, when I knew I was supposed to be making those lifelong friendships. In the years after college, when all my friends scattered across the country. And now, ten years after that conversation, in my late 20s, with a small group of friends here in New York, and many friends still scattered across the country.

There also some old friends right here in New York who I haven’t spoken to in years. Some who I know I likely won’t ever see again. Some who might have my number blocked in their phone. Some who I made the very hard decision to block in mine.

Many of my favorite belongings have come from friends I don’t talk to anymore. Jewelry, old t-shirts, a costume birthday tiara, old concert tickets, vacation mementos, a mug with Elsa from Frozen on it, white slippers I wore until they weren’t white anymore. I can delete texts with the press of a button, but I can’t delete memories, or bring myself to throw away these treasured possessions.

Have you ever wondered what to do with old stuff from old friends? Many people have different, well voiced opinions on this issue when it comes to romantic exes. What to do with the birthday gift from a lover, or how to decide if you should keep that book that reminds you of the ex you’re really mad at right now but might want to. 

I’m always really disappointed when people don’t regard friend breakups with the same sensitivity that they approach romantic breakups. I could date someone for a month and get all the sympathy and empathy in the world if we broke up. But many people expect you to just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and move on when you stop talking to friends you’ve known for years.

I once wrote a short story about a rupture in my relationship with one of my oldest friends, not to publish, but just to try to process my feelings.We’ve since reconnected, and had a really beautiful, mature conversation about everything that happened between us, but I’ll always remember how profoundly painful it was to be estranged from her.

A few years ago, someone I hadn’t spoken to in a long time, texted me saying. “Know this is random and we haven’t talked, but this just came on!” Attached was a video of her at a concert, where they were playing one of our old favorite songs. Or at least, a song we used to love to drunkenly sing in cabs. (I really wish I could go back in time and apologize to all those cab drivers. God, we were obnoxious.) I smiled, let a flash of memories wash over me, then went to bed without responding.

I recently mailed a Roxanne Gay book back to a friend I haven’t seen in nearly a year. She lent it to me quite a while ago. I’m embarrassed that it took me so long to return it. I always thought I’d give the book back to her in person. Mailing it felt like a profound acknowledgement of the fact that we’re not speaking right now. A little part of me hoped that she would text me when she got the book. But mostly, I know I have to be okay with the fact that we’re not in each other’s lives right now, however disappointing and upsetting that may be.

At this point in my life, I’ve very much accepted that not all of our friends will be with us for the entirety of our lives. Some are just here for a season. Some dip in and out. Some have more complicated chapters. I do my best to cherish my close friends, and own my mistakes when we disagree. I try to resolve conflict quickly, and forgive quickly too. I’ve learned to reflect, when I hold grudges for too long and make things personal that really have nothing to do with me. 

And yet, despite all of this very necessary growth, I know I’m still going to mess up sometimes. I know that I’m not done making, or losing friends. I know that I haven’t met all the people I’m going to love yet, and I know that “sometimes people leave you halfway through the wood.” ¹ (No, we will never get through an essay without a song reference. It’s not a goal of mine! The more the better!)

All I can do for now is love my people well, and be grateful for the time that I had with the friends whose mugs I still drink from, dresses I still wear, and memories I’ll forever hold.

I’ll leave you with ‘The Parting Glass’ as a benediction of sorts. It’s been one of my favorite songs ever since I heard it during a particularly emotional episode of Brothers and Sisters years and years ago when I binged it in college. Lyrics are copied below.

Oh, all the money that e'er I spent
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall

So fill to me the parting glass
Goodnight and joy be with you all

Oh, all the comrades that e'er I've had
Are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had
Would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not

I'll gently rise and I'll softly call
Goodnight and joy be with you all

Goodnight and joy be with you all

1. "No One is Alone” from Into the Woods.