Last year I lost a friendship that I never thought I would lose. It ranks as one of the greatest heartbreaks of my life. I loved her with intensity and devotion. She knew who I was. And I knew her. She was my bestest. Anyone who has ever had this kind of friendship knows exactly what I mean. But now it's gone to pieces.
At the time it went to pieces, I had never needed her more. Losing our friendship was the third of a staggering series of heartbreaks that left me deeply depressed (a word I do not use lightly). It triggered a painful deconstruction of everything I thought I knew about myself, and I came to some sobering conclusions. The entire landscape of my life changed, and I have never felt more abandoned and alone.
But I am finding forgiveness, and I have sought forgiveness for the things I did. Though none of it changes the simple fact that what we had -- that crazy, inexplicable connection between two human beings -- is gone.
They say there are seven stages of grief, and I am finally in the seventh stage of acceptance and hope. At least I think I am.
