It’s not you…it’s me?

Ah yes, the “Best Friend Break Up,” even Urban Dictionary couldn’t create a witty way to put it. But we’ve all been there, and may agree, this can be harder than ending it with the actual boyfriend/girlfriend. The last friend break up I had was in sixth grade, I was in line to play handball when some chick named Monique pushed me *playfully* which in turned caused me to flail superman style into one of my “best friends” who was also the Queen B of the recess.

The silence that followed this little slap on the cheek was a sound unheard of at recess, which by the way Erin, was a total accident…but if I could go back again I think I’d do it a second time. But alas, from there on out, I could not play tether-ball if she was playing, I could not participate in truth or dare in the back corner. Even though I was that kid to accept the worm eating dare. And so life went on as miserable as it could get for a sixth grader. I wasn’t some squirmy 80lb kid for long with no one to play with, I had my little clicks of girls who we would pass notes to, doodled with hearts and folded in odd ways to create a “lock” on the note. And found a friend who has been my best bud for a solid 11 years. (this does not give her justice, future post to come on this woman)

I have recently had to perform another break up with a best friend. No name naming. But it’s tricky, you don’t have friend break ups because of a silly slap while in line unless you’re on Jersey Shore, or are still playing handball at 24, which in that case, call me. Things become difficult, there’s blame, sadness, and an emptiness that when you’re in your twenties can be filled with more friends, work, bars, races, but you still want to share these things with that person, because he thinks you’re funny.

I hate ending on a woe is me note, but I need to be at work in 30 minutes and I’m only one coffee deep. Until next time!

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