I met my best friend, Sarah, back in college. It was 1993, and we were randomly assigned as roommates. She hailed from New York, and her accent instantly reminded me of my relatives from that area. While Sarah loved sleeping in, I was all about early morning workouts before classes. She had a laid-back style with flannels and hats, while I was more into dressing up in skirts and dresses.
Initially, Sarah was a bit anxious about us sharing a space, but I felt completely at ease. I didn’t anticipate we’d become best friends; I just knew she felt like home. Fast forward nearly thirty years, and we’ve been through so much together: breakups, questionable life choices, new homes, pets, kids, family drama, and those moments when all you need is someone to listen before you completely lose it.
She always knows how to pick the right words, offering a judgment-free ear while never displaying jealousy or holding grudges. To her, I’m an equal, someone who makes mistakes but still deserves understanding. She knows when to chime in and when to let me vent, often guiding me to find my own answers through my ramblings.
The Tough Times
Throughout our friendship, I’ve never come away from a conversation with her feeling worse. In fact, it’s always the opposite; she somehow manages to show me the best version of myself. There was a tough period when her father passed away a few years ago, and she fell into a depression. During that time, our communication dwindled. I reached out, understanding she wasn’t the same person she had been. I never lost hope, knowing she was battling something deep.
I aimed to be the friend she needed, which meant sometimes giving her the space to grieve. It was tough for me too—her heart was shattered, and it felt like a piece of mine was chipped away. I realized just how much she meant to me during that period without her vibrant spirit. Now, she’s a constant in my life, and my love for her is unique—different from what I feel for my kids or my partner. It’s a special kind of admiration just for her.
A Rare Connection
I have other friends I care about, but this bond is like no other. I recognize how rare this kind of friendship is; she’s my soulmate in a non-romantic sense. Some people refer to it as a romantic friendship, and if you’ve experienced something similar, you know exactly what I mean. New Statesman puts it nicely, saying that the allure of romantic friendships lies in the love and closeness similar to romantic relationships, minus the daily life logistics typically involved in traditional partnerships.
Explaining this connection can be tricky. It’s not like my relationship with a spouse, yet it’s deeper than my friendships with others. There have been countless times when I’ve needed to discuss things with her before even mentioning them to my partner or family. Our partners have joked about our “love,” and we both admit it—we are in love with each other in our own way. Our friendship has weathered the storms of life, even during periods of silence.
Embracing Our Connection
It’s perfectly fine that others may not grasp our connection; they don’t need to. I feel incredibly fortunate to have this romantic friendship, and Sarah will always be my person. If you’re curious about exploring similar connections, you might find support in spaces like the Make a Mom Facebook group or consider resources like Make a Mom for at-home insemination options. They even offer a re-usable insemination kit that can help you on your journey. For more insights into home insemination, check out how it works. And for those looking into IVF, the NHS provides excellent information.
In summary, I cherish my deep bond with Sarah, which I consider a rare and special connection, often referred to as a romantic friendship.
Leave a Reply