“It’s hard when you miss people. But you know if you miss them, that means you’re lucky. It means you had someone special in your life, someone worth missing.” ~ Nikki Schiefelbein
Missing people is something I’ve always done. I’m sure we all have. We make friendships – some hot and heavy – and it’s unimaginable that we’d ever be able to do without them. Then things change, people move on and the missing starts.
Somehow, we can still breath and we get on with living our lives because that’s what we do. But we do it knowing a piece of our heart, maybe just the tiniest sliver, has been given away to someone else. That’s how I see it. Every time I’ve traveled, I’ve left somebody behind. I left a couple of really good friends in Vancouver, one of whom has come to see me in the UK nearly every year since.
Sometimes it’s a breakup. A friendship gone bad and that hurts even more. Everything you were to each other is no longer enough and it’s time to cut the cord. Those people still own a piece of me. I’ve ended two meaningful friendships in my adult life and – although I’ve no regrets – it still stings. Part of me misses them as much now as when it first happened, years and years ago.
We’re all missing someone right now because life has challenged us in new and unpredictable ways. We may not be alone, or maybe we are, but chances are we’re pining for the old life and for the people who make it. For company and noise and physical touch.
I don’t have a massive gang but I miss the small pockets of exceptional people who let me be their friend (or loved one). I’d give my right kidney to see them tonight (well, not literally). I’d love to hug every one of them, go to dinner (all you can eat sushi) – see a movie. Even the pub sounds good to me right now. Somewhere outside with heaters and booths, I know just the place.
Missing them is hard but it only means when all this has blown over, we’ll appreciate it more. Maybe the Universe planned this all along, a global workshop in how to cherish what we have. If that’s the case, it’s way harsh but I get the drift.
So for every day I don’t see anybody but my husband, for every day I stay indoors – I feel I’m one step closer to this being over. That’s what we’re doing this all for, isn’t it? We’re being sensible, making sacrifices now so we don’t have to down the line. And we’re protecting the very people we love the most, one day at a time.
One day soon we’ll get there, we just have to keep reminding ourselves of this.