This Is What Happens When Your Best Friend Is Leaving

I just walked through memory lane. It started with the moment you accidentally flashed Kemal beginning of freshman year, and he dropped our bunk bed leaving Elias struggling with the other end. Then there was that summer of when we moved into our first apartment. What a shit hole. Oh, and the summer after that when you discovered alcohol, and that time you chased my drunk ass to East Hall to make sure I got there safely, because I all I could think about was getting laid.

Then there were those moments where you saved me from myself, and picked up my phone calls at 6 A.M. when I thought I was going to push a certain somebody into the train tracks. Or those weekends where we spent all weekend on your couch watching Sherlock and youtube videos. And the 3 hour drives to Massachusetts. And the weekend pedicures. And the “Don’t tweet that, Fidelis,” groupme conversations. And the times where you have had to hold my hand, remind me to breathe, and rid me of my anxiety attacks.

I’m sidetracking, I know.

I watched you conquer the GMATs. I watched you apply to schools. I watched you plan for you next step. I reminded you of deadlines. And now the move is finalized. It’s less than a month away. I’ve tried to write this maybe four times before. I’ve tried to get it off of my chest and mind to Shiko. To Roconia. To my new pretty journal. But writing about it makes it real. Expressing it makes it real. And so up until today, August 11, 2015 at 2:33AM, it was simply just an idea. No. A thing. Yes- it was a thing, but I was told I couldn’t do that anymore. I was told it was time to accept it, so here I am trying to accept that you are leaving, Fidelis. This is me working to accept that you won’t be in close proximity or a simple phone call away.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I want to be selfish. So selfish, Delli. I want to convince you that this next step is a terrible move. “Italy is a tad racist,” wants to escape my mouth. “They have dogs everywhere,” I know you hate them. Anything to cause a change in your mind, anything to make you stay. Yes, we’ve done time differences and plan rides. Yes, we’ve done scheduled calls and long periods of no communication. But this is different. This feels so very permanent. Something like a, “see you later… maybe.”

Please don’t let it be a see you later, maybe. I don’t think Shiko or Mariel, will be able to handle a see you later, maybe.

I want this to continue to be the epic, unconventional, full of love, and ridiculous friendship that it is today. With more money. Yes, more money and food for our adventures. I want us to continue to be soulmates, sisters from different misters, and that dynamic duo everyone knows us to be. I want that dream of us owning homes, with rooms for each other in them. I want us to continue to be each other escapes and sense of reason when petty becomes our middle names, and senseless acts are almost acted upon. I want all of that, because well, I don’t know how to be without that.

And I know it all sounds very dramatic, so over the top, and whatever else others may say, but it’s not. Because of you, I’ve learned how to give love and accept it. I know what it feels like to be flawed and loved unconditionally anyway. I’ve experienced the true definition of friendship.

You’ve always been my biggest fan, and I think this is God’s way of telling me, that it’s my time to provide you with the same. You’re moving to Milan, and you will be amazing. You’ll study hard… well hard on your terms, and I’ll be routing for you from the stateside. I have my trip money squared away, and an emergency amount for those just incase Fidelis moments. I know there will be some.

I guess, I’m just trying to say that I will be here, okay? I will be here.

Love,
Tush