To my once ago now lost best friend,
Now that I have no way of actually speaking to you, let me speak to you. Let me talk to you for a little while. Why don’t you make yourself a cup of coffee – even though it makes you sick – and settle in. This might take a bit of time.
I’ll start by saying that you have left a void in your wake. This is a void that I didn’t know existed, until just now, when I stumbled and fell into it. I climbed out somehow, with some interesting help, but that’s a story for another time.
So best friend, let’s talk about what you were like. You were a worrier. You ran back and forth, you hustled and hustled some more, because you were always worried about something or the other. And I know one of your biggest worries was me.
I know I was the reason you were stressed out so often. I also know you liked it that way. Wow Nayab what a self-obsessed thing to say. Yes and no. Taking care of me, worrying about me, being around me, all of that made you happy. You were like the mother I never had: have you eaten, have you slept, did you get a migraine, how are you feeling, do you want to talk about it? I never noticed you did this until you stopped.
I never realised just how safe I got used to feeling. I used to wake up feeling like I was wrapped in some sort of gardenia scented downy comforter. I knew that if I ever needed anything, you were the person I’d call. I had no qualms about any of that.
I have understood that you were one of those quiet people who gradually sediment their impact in other peoples’ lives. That’s exactly what you did. You stayed, helped, loved, acted and generally did everything you could to make me happy. And your loss is one that I will be hard-pressed to get over.
I still remember things about you that make no sense anymore. What do I do with now-useless bits of information; they rattle in my mind like discarded objects left out too long in the rain. There, a used-to-be red, now bleached bucket whispers loudly: remember how he twisted his ankle playing football? Here, a lopsided umbrella with a cracked handle: remember when I once threw wet sponges at him then cried later because I couldn’t believe I did that, even for a game? All of these are memories which leave nothing. I have them. You gave them to me.
But at the end, best friend, when it came down to it, you left me standing in the middle of nowhere. You took my blanket, you took my safety. You were perfectly ingrained in all the details of my life, in all the small things I did or thought about everyday. But when it came down to it, you unraveled it all, you walked away. And so, darling, you should know that I am grateful to you. I am thankful for everything you ever did, for security, for comfort, for love and for affection. And I’m sorry for all that you could not change. But what I’m most thankful for is your last act: the final disappearance. Because I now know that nothing and no one is perfect and I am okay with your loss. It is a loss that has taught me immeasurable lessons.
Because there can never be too much of a good thing.
And because I will never seek you out again.