Lost to Me

In my aging, I have learned to hold dear a certain bit of advice my mother gave me. She said, "People are in your life for a reason and a season. Only a few are there for life". Making friends has never been a problem for me. I can spark a conversation and charm the pants off Satan. And while most take the lure only a few stay on for the ride.

  "If I were a guy, I'd date you." my best friend said to me as we mellowed from a jay. We were friends since Mrs. Dikeman's 8th grade math class. Through road trips, childish squabbles, prom, and graduation we maintained. Things changed as they always do. Her focus was to foster a love mine was success, to be bigger than my suburb, Virginia next. We joked that if neither of us married, that we'd move to Vermont and wed each other and she'd stay home and spend my money. And while I knew this would never happen, it resonated what I was losing as I watched her flit about searching for her bridal gown, standing poised and moderately ungrateful at her bridal shower while I faked a smile. And worse, giving my speech at the reception words slurring and to me meaningless.  I gave up Marlboro lights and contact with her. She made a house call after returning from her honeymoon. Her tone chummy as she prodded for information. She was almost a stranger and this made it easier to look away.

I joined Goodreads.com recently and had the option of inviting my email contacts to join. I saw that my former was among them, and I made it my business to uncheck her name as well as a handful of others who I no longer speak to. I thought I could read directions even if done late at night. But no. An invite was sent to everyone. She emailed me of course. And it is up to me now to respond. Losing was hard once, but since I'd lost her and another one close to me shortly after, the pain is only a tiny scratch  that would've made your eyes Niagara as a child but now can be ignored.  And what can I say I've learned from my past tense best friend and my second great loss? How not to be? How to wash soiled hands clean? I don't know that I want to. "I don't give a damn what books you're reading...I hope you aren't still mad." She emailed. Mad? How can I be? We're strangers, aren't we?