A good friend of mine did a very brave, bold thing last week.
She told me that she was disappointed in me, that I'd hurt her, that she was heartbroken.
Even writing it down now makes my own heart hurt again.
Still, I'm glad she did it, because it's better than the alternative. She could have just swallowed her unhappiness, then drifted away and acted polite until we weren't really friends anymore -- I suspect that's what most people do. I would have been left wondering what happened, making assumptions that we were just busy, that life's craziness got in the way, that it didn't really mean anything, that it simply slipped away.
But I would have missed her.
She is funny, talented, smart and thoughtful. She does amazing work in her chosen profession. She manages motherhood like a pro. And she has a quick, dry wit that she delivers with deadpan brilliance.
So as hard as it was to read her message, I am thankful that she is so brave, that she valued our friendship so much to be so honest, that she trusted me enough to tell me. And I am particularly grateful that she accepted my apology, understood my efforts to make things right and even appreciated my (somewhat lame) attempt at a joke to lighten the reply.
Thank you, my friend. Thank you for being my friend.