Nostalgic Remembrances Of Lost Friendships

2020 was a rough year.

Given what was going on in the world, it may have been a rough year for you, too.

I was lonely.

And, in my loneliness, I set an intention.

Our goal, with this story, is to explore what happened, when this intention fulfilled itself.

You might enjoy this story. But, if honesty permits, this story is just for me.

Me and my nostalgia.

The Birth Of A New Friendship

I wanted friendship.

Connection.

Love, even.

But, really, just a group of nice, fun people to hang out with.

So, right as 2020 came to an end, I set the intention.

And, I got that.

In 2021.

For a time.

January 3rd — give or take — to…well, now, perhaps.

But, really, sometime around late September or early October.

A close friend — my best friend, truly — gave me an offer.

“Join me, and some of my friends, on one of our nightly video calls.”

I did.

And, for that, I am so, so very grateful.

The purpose of these video calls was to bring people together for some fun conversation during the long Winter that was COVID-19.

My first video call was lovely.

It began at 7 o’clock PM, on the first Friday of the year.

The conversation was effortless. The laughter was plentiful. The connections were rich.

A feeling of love flowed through me.

It lasted for several days — maybe more, come to think of it — and, within those moments, all was well.

I enjoyed some lovely, lovely video calls, every night, for a time.

This did not last.

It was quickly, almost violently, replaced by a mild tension.

There was a brusqueness, a mild tension, and a vague hostility that I felt from some of the people on our nightly video calls..

Not all. Just some.

And, it may have just been me; this may all be a product of my imagination.

A product of some vague, undefined anger, even.

I like those people. And, maybe, in some ways, I love them.

But, the love that I felt then was, it seems, illusory.

My apologies. This is hard to describe.

I felt seen.

Somewhat.

But, I felt uncomfortable.

It’s as if I wanted to give love but, more than anything else, I wanted to be loved.

To be loved in the ways that I am with my closest friends, whom they were not and, naturally, are not.

I tried to give love. But, I don’t think I tried hard enough; I remember thinking about how to get back at people whose remarks, I felt, had hurt me.

If memory serves, I never acted on those thoughts.

But, I wanted to. And, that kind of impulse, well, it corrodes your attitude and actions in a way that isn’t always perceptible, but can often be felt by those around you.

I wish I had done better. But, I also wish that I had felt more…love or kindness, I suppose, from those around me.

I suppose this is okay, though. Not all friendships are meant to be.

Still, though, for a time — and, really, for most of these moments — things were lovely beyond measure.

A Slow, Rather Melancholic, Ending

Summer started off with a bang.

A party.

A birthday party, to be precise.

My best friend turned 21.

And, technically, Summer ended with a party.

Sort of.

There were a lot of parties.

The parties we enjoyed were lovely.

Good food. A few drinks. Much laughter.

Our nights — well, the ones after these parties, and throughout much of the Summer — were punctuated with those nightly video calls of ours.

But, there weren’t as many of these as we, perhaps, assumed there would be.

They were good, though. That is true.

Right as the Summer came to an end, when my own emotions were enveloping me, there was another party.

A birthday party.

It was nice.

Fun, even.

Some might even say it was lots of fun.

There was that same tension, though, that had presented itself earlier.

I felt unseen. I felt lonely. I felt angry.

I felt hurt.

Being around some of those people — that isn’t a very good phrase, but it’s suitable — felt painful.

I wanted something. But, that something wasn’t being given and, in the end, I may not have been giving it, either.

A period of time passed and, then, as September was about to wind down, we all went to Mount Tabor together.

It was a beautiful September day.

Sunny. Warm. Windy. Light. Pleasurable.

The blue sky intermixed with the golden sun, creating a feeling of melancholy that can still be felt within.

It never left, one could argue.

We hung out for several hours, on the very top of Mount Tabor.

Summer ended that day.

Literally.

It was, technically, the last day of Summer.

And, it was lovely.

We laughed and ran and shared and played.

I remember playing “Tag” and climbing up trees, while chasing and being chased.

It all sounds quite childish. But, that’s what we did; it was Mount Tabor and it was lovely, so we all really enjoyed being free, in that lovely, lovely way.

And, then, as the sun began to set, and the golden-blue of the sky began to take on a gray plumage, we left.

We went our separate ways.

And, that was that, nearly three years ago.

Or, at least, that is mostly true.

Moving On

Our last get-together, as a group, was on December 31st, of 2022.

New Year’s Eve.

It was a lot of fun.

Laughter. Eating. Play. Fireworks. Movies.

Sometime after that, on Superbowl Sunday, we got together again.

Just a few of us, though.

It was nice; a walk through Northeast Portland.

And, well, that was it.

That is the last time we hung out.

I’m very close to my best friend.

None of the others, though.

They’ve moved on and so have I.

I’m very happy about this.

The relationship ran its course.

Or, “relationships,” plural.

Sometimes, though, I think back.

To the year that was 2021.

To some of those parties.

To some of those get-togethers.

To some of those video calls.

God, there were so many.

I can’t feel much of what I felt back then; the hurt, the yearning, the loneliness.

No, that isn’t true.

I can feel what I felt back then.

But, not the bad stuff; only the good stuff.

The love. The laughter. The beauty.

Even just the fun of it all; spending every night with fun people who you can just be yourself with; no pretense and no frills and no tension, only presence and, within that presence, some kind of love.

If you’ve read this story, then you know that last part wasn’t true.

If I think too much, some of those old, true feelings come back.

But, it’s easy for me to only remember the good stuff.

Or, at the very least, to only focus on the good stuff.

I don’t miss those days. And, I’m glad they’re behind me.

COVID-19 isn’t gone. But, it’s managed.

Something like that.

I appreciate them.

Those days, that is.

I appreciate those days; the loneliness, the love, the yearning, the laughter.

I appreciate those days.

Just as I appreciate that they are gone and that the people I’m with now — my closest friends, including my lovely, lovely girlfriend — are as grand as the stars that lay within our infinite sky.

Conclusion

To those who read this essay, thank you so much.

Just scrolling through it, it comes off as rather narcissistic.

My apologies for that.

Even so, though, thank you so much for reading.

Best wishes and have a lovely day!