This is My Life on the Fourth of July…it Isn’t Much, but at Least it’s Mine

Though the day has ended for most, I’m still awake after an early evening nap of sorts. I can’t help but think of one of my favorite songs, “Fourth of July” by Stephen Kellogg.

You can see it here.

It makes me think of many things: life, troubles, self confidence, pain, endurance, heartbreak and the inevitable joy of overcoming those hardships.

It also makes me think of my best friend. Former best friend, I suppose. Not by choice. We were supposed to move to Boston. I moved home instead. She used to respond to texts, and then just stopped one day.

We were both ready to move when we decided to go. It was an escape plan – a way to run away. Then it fell through. We moved on. I’m happy, though nothing is how I planned it. I was in a bad place, mentally, back then. I didn’t think anyone cared about me nor cared if I left. I certainly didn’t care about staying. We bonded over that all-consuming need to leave, and the idea that no one cared if we did.

And then she left.

When best friends stop being best friends, it’s worse than an actual breakup. The thing about best friends is they know everything – the things you keep to yourself when dating, at least for awhile. They know all of it.

It’s been a few years now, and I still have a hard time letting it go. The fact that the person I befriended over our common need to find someone who cared, decided she didn’t.

But that’s life I guess. And mine is good. Some days, breathtakingly good. Today was one of those days, actually. But I still miss my friend.


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