To My Ex-Best Friend:

Hi, how are you? How's school? How's work? How's your mom doing? We hardly ever went a day without talking but we haven't said a word to each other in a few months, but a few months feels like years. I think about our friendship a lot, and I talk about you sometimes with my family or my other friends. I'm not entirely sure what to call you. I guess the appropriate title would be my “ex-best friend,” but somehow I can never get that out of my mouth. It's weird to think that we aren't close anymore and that I don't get to talk to you all the time.

You were my best friend at one point… but then one day you weren’t. Remember how we talked about living in gorgeous homes on the water? We joked about having a secret tunnel that connected our houses and promised we would marry two best friends to ensure that we would always remain close. You were supposed to be my daughter's godmother and I was supposed to be your son's. We talked about spoiling each other's children with endless gifts and raising our kids to love one other like siblings. We planned our entire days out and thought about the double dates we would go on. You were supposed to be my maid of honor and throw my baby shower. I always hoped that we would be best friends forever, but sometimes things don’t work out the way we thought they would — we both know that too well.

You used to be my go-to. My ride or die. I ran to you with everything, and you did the same. We were each other's shoulder to lean on when something went wrong. You reminded me of my self-worth when I let someone hurt me, and I always told you that you were the prettiest girl and deserve so much better than what some jerk was giving you. I was there when your other “best friends” weren’t. I stood by you when they annoyed you and gave you a hard time about something. I never thought I would see the day where it wasn’t us against the world.

You were always at my house. Literally. I remember all the weekends you showed up at my door on a Friday after school and you stayed until as late as possible every Sunday. We spent the three days galavanting around. My parents saw you as their fourth daughter, and my sisters were so used to having you around. There were times you would go out with my family when I wasn’t around, or I’d come home from work or babysitting to find you sitting around the center island in the kitchen with the girls as the dogs tried to climb on your lap.

You know me better than anyone else. We always understood one another and we spoke each other's languages. We knew right away when something was wrong, and you are seriously the only person who knows how to deal with me when I’m upset or stressed out. It never bugged you if I randomly stopped talking for an hour, because there was so much running through my head. Most people like to ask a million questions and attempt to make me laugh when I want to cry or scream, but you were never like that. You always gave me space, and you understood that I would calm down once I had some time to figure out my thoughts.

We knew how one another would react to any given situation and you always tried to get me to do what would make me happy. You have always been better with handling hard situations. I tend to get upset and over-analyze every possible detail, but you break down for a minute and then you pick yourself up and carry on. You have always been so strong and you hate dwelling on the past.

You always pushed me to go outside of my comfort zone and to stop taking life so seriously all the time. It’s only taken six years, but I’m finally listening to your advice and allowing myself to take advantage of the opportunities that are right in front of me and I’m glad I am — you were right all along. I decided it was best to cut off that jerk, and I knew you’d be proud to see I’m moving on. You’d also be surprised to hear that I met someone. At least I think I did. You’d like him. You’d tell me he’s a good fit for me, and you’d be pleased to realize he’s not an jerk. I’m trying to stay away from the bad boys. It’s strange because this is the first time you aren’t meeting the person I’m into. We constantly had one another meet whoever we were hanging out with to get each other's opinions. What one of us said either meant we would continue hanging out with that person or we’d drop them. There was something about knowing that we felt a person was good enough to be with us that made us feel safe. I wish you could meet him and give me your opinion, but I guess I just have to trust my gut from now on. I hope if you’ve met someone new as well that he’s treating you right.

You pop up on my Timehop almost every day. I laugh at all the stupid s**t we used to tweet each other, and it blows my mind how fast the last few years have gone by. As much as I like to think about the good times we shared, I do remember all the bad times as well. Over time our friendship took a turn. You’d place other people above me and then say that I was your best friend. You chose guys over me. We would have plans and you would "forget" that we did. I was constantly calling you to get our nails done or grab a bite to eat, and you rarely asked me. You didn’t come to visit me in New York even though you said a million times you would. People who I'm not even remotely close with would call to see how classes were going or how I was adjusting to the city, and you never asked.

What makes it all even worse is that our last conversation was about a piece-of-s**t boy. It upsets me because he is so insignificant, and that conversation shouldn't have ended the way it did, but I think we both know that the end of our friendship had been a long time coming and that was just the final straw.

I know I have a million reasons to be angry with you and you probably do too, but I'm not mad anymore, and I don't hate you. Sometimes I get the urge to call or text you. I often wonder what we would say to one another. Something happened the other night, and I needed someone to talk to about it who would understand. I didn’t know what to do, and my first thought was to dial your number, but then I remembered I can’t. I called someone else instead, but it wasn’t the same. Whenever I get an E-News alert on my phone, I find myself going to screenshot it and send it to you, but I hesitate when I remember we haven’t talked. It’s little moments like that where it hits me that we are no longer a part of each other's lives, and that's when I feel the saddest about our friendship falling apart.

Despite all that has happened, I will always love you like a sister. You’re the Serena to my Blair. You were my first real best friend, and because of that I could never hate you. I hope I bump into you one day. Maybe we will exchange hugs and make small talk about all that's happened in our lives since we parted ways. I hope you’re happy and you get everything you want in this life. I hope you learn to trust people again and let people get close to you. I hope you stop worrying and you marry a nice man who adores you. I hope you have all five of your babies and live in the beautiful big home you’ve always talked about, even if I'm not right next door to you. I hope you figure out what you want to do with your life and have a career that fills you with nothing but joy. Maybe you’ll listen to me and go to cosmetology school.

I wish nothing but the best for you, and I hope you know that you can always call me, whether it’s one in the afternoon or four in the morning. I’ll always see you as my best friend and my sister, even if we are worlds apart, and I’m here whenever you need anything.

xoxo,

Your Ex-Best Friend