I seldom make lasting friendships. It’s not that I don’t try, or that I’m a particularly unfriendly person; I find that I try quite hard a good deal of the time, and while I certainly have introverted tendencies, I deeply appreciate the company of others when the time is right. Yet, my relations seem to have expiration dates. After enough years, the dynamics spoil. Repackaging fails, refrigeration worsens, and hoards of flies noisily swarm the moldy mess of what had once been a valuable human connection. So, we wash our hands of the leaking mildew, awkwardly avert our eyes from the wreckage, and subtly part ways, equally solemn as we are relieved that, yes, this is over now. We can move on. Meet new people. It’s cyclical.

I’ve bounced between friends so many times that the dizziness hardly affects me anymore. It becomes second nature, and I’ve more or less accepted that the majority of the people in my life will not stay. This seems natural to me; time changes us all, and a pair of friends who were inexplicably drawn together five years ago could very well be entirely different today. Realistically, these differences are often incompatible. I know that I’ve changed, for better and worse, and it’s been impossible to bring everyone through those changes that I would have wanted to be on the other side. Some people I simply didn’t want on the other side, and as callous as that may sound, it is my right to make those kinds of decisions for myself. I’m sure that others have crossed bridges they didn’t want me to find as well, and this is just another facet of growth that is equally important as it is pragmatic. Not every relationship is meant to last.

I’ve come to feel that the termination of a relationship is not necessarily the culmination of a failure. Relations can run their course, and they can turn sour, but there is a middle ground that is often stampeded by the emotional detonation of the finale. Some friendships end quietly, in the silent and tentative separations of people who no longer have the time, energy, ability, or desire to connect. Others end in hoarse throats, broken gifts, and regretful speeches. Some land somewhere in the middle, and some ends come so suddenly and noiselessly that they’re almost impossible to recognize. Regardless of the nature of it, I think there is always something to be gained in human connection. The quiet divisions and the angry explosions both follow memories of happiness and adventure, and while those lost moments may make the partition more complicated, they also happened. There is value in every moment of happiness we have ever had, regardless of the size, regardless of the cause, regardless of the current circumstances. There will always be beauty in a sliver of happiness, whether or not we choose to remember it as such.

In the midst of all of this, I also have friends that have stuck. I have people who have toughed through the struggles, people who have been there for me, and people who I have not entirely failed or driven away. While I appreciate and love my friends more than I can say, I appreciate the friends I no longer have as well. I appreciate the ones I simply drifted away from, sometimes without meaning to, and I appreciate the ones who saw our end by the worst possible means. We may cross paths again, and we may not; we may greet each other with open arms, and we may not. But if there was a single positive moment shared between us, there is power and significance in that moment. It is a sad truth that not all relations are meant to last, but it is a lovely truth that we can choose to carry with us the positive remnants of an old friendship that has now passed.