To The Friends Who Have Drifted Away


I saw you last night. At the club. Your head bobbing up in down in the crowd as you were floating in a sea of people on the other side of the room. You looked left. You looked right. Catching glimpses of whatever it was that was calling your attention.

Someone bumps into you. You spill a little bit of your drink on your shoes, and I can tell you’re irritated by the way you smile so politely to the drunk chick scrambling all over herself to apologize. I know you. You never smile politely unless you’re just faking it. I remember. It was one of the reasons I couldn’t be your friend anymore.

I have nothing against being bitchy. Own it. Do you. Sometimes it was endearing. Sometimes it was funny. But mostly, it was hard to handle. And that’s just me. I guess our senses of humor are just a little different. I mean, I can be a bitch, too – who am I kidding? But I digress.

You keep coming towards me. You haven’t seen me yet. You’re by yourself, as far as I can tell. A thought crosses my mind. Have you made a new best friend? Was everyone else just busy tonight? Who do you spend your time with these days?

Are you happy?

You push even further through the crowd towards me. We’re about ten feet apart now. You look down to find your footing in the thrall of bodies surrounding you, and then you look back up. Directly into my eyes.

A lifetime of memories and feelings instantly jolt across the room above the swaying heads of the partygoers. Do they see it as it passes over them?

Do they see that time you cried in your car when your dad was dying and I sat there with you? Do they see that time we were really drunk and ran several miles back to my house in the middle of the night? Do they see that moment when you helped me move out of my crazy ex’s house?

How can they not see these things? They’re flying right over their heads at a thousand miles an hour, from my eyes to yours. I see them. They’re all I can see. They’re what I see in your eyes.

You hold the gaze just long enough to transfer a lifetime back and forth, but not long enough to rekindle a fire that’s died out. Somewhere inside, my heart breaks a little.

You look down again as you try to find your footing and continue to push through the crowd. You pass right by me. Your hand gently nudges me aside as you do. Another body in a crowd. I’m not even here. I’m nobody. I’m your best friend. Or at least, I was.

Now I’m just in your way.