Burying the hatchet

I made amends with an old friend today.

I've known her for as long as I can remember, but our relationship has always been complex, and we've been on the outs for quite a while now.

We used to have so much fun together, but like many childhood friends, we gradually grew apart. I always felt that I grew up faster than she did, and she complained that I had unrealistic expectations of her and of our friendship. I depended on her in some ways, but she always needed more attention and nurturing from me than I wanted to give. She was exciting, and adventurous, and she could be fun when she was in the right mood, but I couldn't rely on her. She was a flaky friend, and I have very little patience for flaky friends.

Our personalities became too intertwined, so much so that when someone would criticize her, I felt personally attacked. Our time together, which had once made me so happy, came to feel like a burden, and I started seeing her less and less. I couldn't figure out how to extricate myself from the relationship gracefully, so I made a clean break, about 2 1/2 years ago. It was easier than I expected.

And I've been fine. I moved on. I thought I would miss her a lot, but I really haven't. I've made other friends, dependable friends who support and encourage me, who never make me cry or feel bad about myself. I'm happy.

I don't know what brought it on, but about a week ago, I started thinking I might want to check on her, just to see how she's doing. It took until today for me to work up the courage to give it a try.

It was pretty great to see her. I went in with no expectations, planning only to make small talk, but after a few minutes' hesitation, it was as if we'd never been apart. I didn't feel frustrated or upset. I felt comfortable, and nostalgic, and energized, and happy.

I don't know how often we'll see each other. It's been a long time, after all, and I'm not sure how much energy I want to put into rebuilding.

But for that one hour this afternoon in a practice room, it felt like my voice and I might just be able to be friends again.