It was the middle of December but the weather was balmy, and we were running through the night like a storm was chasing us. I reached the bottom of my street and collapsed in the cul-de-sac, a panting mess. “I won!” I managed to get out in between heaving breaths.
Kylie collapsed beside me and exclaimed, “Cheater!” We laid there taking deep breaths and looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, and a sheet of stars twinkled above us. It felt like the world was expanding around us, and we bound ourselves in a cloak of familiarity to keep the impossible bigness of it all at bay. We huddled together in our small world of two, and held each other’s problems so tightly that they began to wither away. We lifted ourselves from the pavement and wandered down to the creek, weaving in between trees and vines. We sat on the little sandy bar and gazed into the moonlit water that drifted, slowly, downstream. I dipped my toe in and yanked it out with gasp- it was icy cold. Kylie submerged her entire hand. “Bet you can’t keep your hand in longer than me,” she challenged. I dipped my forefinger in and waited until it was burning with numbness before taking it out in defeat.
“How can you keep it in that long?” I asked.
“I love taking freezing cold showers,” she replied snarkily.
I gasped in mock disgust. “That is a crime against humanity!” I exclaimed dramatically. She laughed and shrugged and finally took her hand out. The stars danced on the lapsing water and it reminded us of other nights like this one, shared together. We walked back up the treacherous hill to my house and resided inside, resolving to talking about anything from crushes to our futures and what they held. And that’s how it was with Kylie, it was an everyday adventure and someone to talk to about life with- which turns out to be much easier to figure out with a best friend by your side.

Kylie and I had been friends since we were 12 years old. She was the first friend I made when I moved to a different area and had to change schools. Since the first day I’ve known her she’s always been the same; tough and competitive on the outside, and a whirlwind of emotions and wisdom once you get to know her. We’ve evolved together through the drama of different friend groups, the confusion of puberty and a myriad of personal and family issues. But everything changed in ninth grade, when our friendship was truly tested. Despite going to the same middle school, the way our neighborhoods are districted split us into different high schools. We promised to text everyday and hang out all the time, and stick with each other until the end. We even vowed to each make the other our maid of honor. And, for almost two years, we had kept our promises- we texted and called each all throughout the week and saw each other nearly every weekend...until, we didn’t.

I mark the day of the start of the unraveling on November 3rd, although it probably started long before then. Friendships usually end slowly and subtly, a personal attack that flies right under the radar. It’s a process of missed phone calls and piling excuses why they can’t sleep over, and new friends slowly edging their way in to take your place. However, it was November 3rd that the change in our friendship blatantly hit me in the face.
It was evening, and the day had flown by in rush of congratulations and hugs. It was a step-up from the days before, since I had been in a three week long fight with my parents. I guess I didn’t blame her for her lack of support before that day since I really just didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. But day turned into night and the sun set and Kylie crossed my mind, and with a sinking feeling I realized that she hadn’t bothered to wish me a happy birthday. I checked through my phone, scrolling through my messages to see if by some mistake hers had been lost in the hustle. But there were no new messages on our conversation since the 18th of October. I didn’t know how to process this strange, newly noticed behavior at first, and sat staring blankly, turning excuses and explanations over in my mind. Finally, I snapped out of this self-pitying mood and decided not to let this go unnoticed. It’s an annual obligation to post a picture for your friends on their birthdays. “Hey girl!” I typed, “Better post a pic for my birthday!” I added a winky face so it wouldn’t come off as accusing and hit send. I continued through my night of celebration and pushed Kylie to the back of my mind. But, when morning came around the next day, I looked back at the conversation to which she never replied. Read 9:16 pm. No post, no reply, no call. My mind was tumbling with betrayal. I did not understand at all. Sure, we hadn’t talked for a few weeks, but that didn’t give her the right to ignore my birthday, the most important day of my year! Confusion turned to anger and my outright stubbornness kept me from texting her or calling her.

Almost everyday since my birthday I thought about her. She crossed my mind constantly, and left small but regular reminders of her existence through random social media posts and the occasional snapchat. I would wonder if she was thinking about me too. I wondered why she wasn’t talking to me, who was my replacement, and what had I done? Had I done something that somehow slipped my notice? Or was she just bored of me? Countless thoughts piled up in my head and I forced myself through the days smiling and through the nights crying, or staring blankly into space. I would sit on my bed and gaze across the room at the corkboard I had covered with polaroid pictures of us. Doesn’t she miss these things too? Everyday problems and trials came and went and I learned to figure it out on my own, keep in inside, talk to myself instead.

Finally, again her name appeared on my phone screen. My hands shook as I opened the innocent message.
“Wanna hang? It’s been too long!” It read. My mind twisted with confusion and doubt, but accepted anyways. We ended up at the mall on a Friday night and dashed from store to store, trying on ridiculous outfits and people watching. As hunger struck, we ran across busy intersections to the California Pizza Kitchen nearby, and spent the remainder of the night catching up. It felt good, but something wasn’t right. Something about it wasn’t natural. I didn’t feel comfortable and her conversation was shallow. My brain screamed to ask her, “Why? Why did you leave me?” but I bit my tongue in fear of scaring her off. She dropped me off at my house with a hug and an, “I missed you!” and sped off into the silent February evening, and from my driveway I watched the stars appear without her.

Months passed and we drifted farther apart. It seemed so normal now that her memory was slowly slipping, only revived after glancing at our polaroid pictures. More pictures appeared on the corkboard, some covering hers, and her importance was fading. It seemed to be the same with her. I watched as she posted pic after pic with a new girl, a new boyfriend, new people who had filtered into her life to take my place. I watched with the eyes of an outsider as she ranted on social media and posted pics about her new life. My life remained incredibly stagnant. If there had been change, I was blind to it. All I could see was my independence growing and feelings shrinking. I watched bare branches of trees blossom into bushels of bright green leaves and the gray winter sky turned blue. But she did not come back.
I guess it doesn’t matter how much you think you need someone sometimes. No matter how close you are to a person, it’s not their responsibility to stick by your side. When you lose a friend, it feels like you’ve lost a little piece of yourself. It feels like you’ve lost your rock, the only constant against the stream of change. But after a while you realize, it’s not what you lose, but what you gain. People are not homes, and they cannot stay forever, in fact they won’t. But that doesn’t make it any less worthwhile. Even in the small passing you had with them, you gain a world of insight and support. You gain a new perspective, new ideas, and memories that will never grow old. Kylie was a friend who changed me, and the mark she left on me will always remain. So instead of asking “Why did it end?” I ask “Why did it begin?” I’ve found infinite more answers to that question. I no longer gaze at old photographs, instead I gaze at the stars, and sometimes I wonder if she is gazing too.