There was a time when seeing my closest friends didn’t require planning.
You just showed up.
A text. A knock on the door. A random Tuesday.
After college, that changed.
One of my best friends moved to Chicago. My grand big from my sorority moved to Boston. At first it didn’t seem like a big deal. People move after graduation. That’s what everyone does.
You tell yourself you’ll visit.
You’ll stay close.
Nothing will really change.
Then life starts happening in different zip codes.
New jobs. New apartments. New routines. New people.
And suddenly the people who used to be part of your everyday life become people you have to schedule months in advance.
I’m writing this because they’re together in Boston right now.
They’re posting pictures, making memories, walking streets I’ve never seen, sharing stories that won’t include me.
And if I’m being honest, a little jealousy has crept in.
Not because I don’t want them to be happy.
I do.
I love them both.
I just wish I was there too.
I miss the version of life where friendship wasn’t separated by airports and time zones.
The older I get, the more I realize that losing proximity can feel a little like losing something else.
Not the friendship itself.
Just the easy part of it.
The spontaneous part.
The part where you never had to wonder when you’d see each other again because the answer was probably tomorrow.
Now the answer might be months.
Sometimes longer.
It turns out one of the hardest parts of growing up isn’t making new friends.
It’s learning how to miss the old ones.
And learning that some people can still mean the world to you even when they’re living halfway across the country.
If this experience taught me anything, it’s this:
Cherish the friendships you have while they’re close enough to reach.
One day you’ll hug goodbye without realizing it’ll be six months before you do it again.
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone.
