What is a friend?

Is it someone who laughs with you when all you can do is laugh at yourself?  Is a friend someone who loves you unconditionally?  Is it someone who has been there since the beginning?  Does a friend remember your birthday or some other major event in your life?  Does he/she know your favorite color or food?  Does a friend go to the movies or a concert with you?  Does he/she call you just to say hi?  Does a friend, even if they don’t call you back right away, eventually call you back?

The word “friend” is often used too lightly in describing someone in our lives that should otherwise be ascribed acquaintance or someone who randomly pops in and out of our lives.  Friends are there for a reason or a season, right?  That statement begs the question: are you really my friend?

In my book, a friend is a person that knows me (or is trying to get to know me) without barriers.  She (or he) knows the real me, the girl that’s willing to let down her guard and be vulnerable.  But what makes a person deserving of that?  That person should be honest, genuine, trustworthy and loyal.  Handle yourself with the utmost authenticity.  Be honest about what you are looking for in a friend and if you cannot put effort into a friendship, don’t expect it in return. 

Over the years I have discovered that in order to have a friend, you have to be a friend.  Last year I was blessed to have a very special friend unexpectedly return to my life.  In my early 20s while I was attending community college, as I was soul-searching for the woman I wanted to become (sometimes in the wrong places), I met a girl named Melissa, who had ironically gone to the same high school as I did and inadvertently had many of the same friends.  It was the first day of some kind of science class (I think astronomy) that neither of us cared to be in.  I was the nerd sitting in the front of the lecture hall while she was the ever rebellious girl sitting as far back as she could in order to avoid calling any attention from the instructor.  She recognized me from school and began asking me questions.  Little did we know in that moment that we would eventually become the best of friends.  This girl was just like me – outspoken, witty, somewhat jaded, lost on the path of education and grasping at strings to hold on.  She asked if we could carpool together since we both lived with our parents who still lived near our old school.  Sure, why not, I thought.  Who knew that an hour in the car each day could develop into such an intense friendship?

Over the years we would do everything together. We laughed harder than I’ve ever laughed before.  Sometimes we had no idea why we were even laughing but it was a quality in a friendship that I cherished because it was the laughter that wiped away the sadness I was enduring at that time.  We traveled together, shared our love stories, had family dinners, rode on a glider together (boy was THAT an experience!), went to bars/clubs and restaurants, hung out with my niece and nephew, had booming parties at her first apartment, experienced our first (and only) ho-down in Hollister, and felt the pride at finally receiving our associate’s and bachelor’s degrees together.  Melissa was there with me through an abusive relationship (she helped me to let go and say goodbye).  She was there when the love of my life came to California to visit after years of a developing friendship and she held my hand when I had to say goodbye.  She was by my side when he broke my heart just a few weeks later.  She saw me through depression from all of the above situations.

In return, I was by her side during her difficult relationship and through her personal, emotional battle with childhood demons.  I stood by as she endured the difficult task of trying to get on the local police force.  I was there when her dream was shattered.  We picked each other up when no one else could.

Oddly enough, I was about to introduce Melissa to my dear friend Raul whom I had been telling her about for the last year.  He was the least judgmental and most loving person I had known, wise beyond his years (he was 28).  We were visiting her then-boyfriend at his work when we decided we’d stop by Raul’s house, which I used to do often.  Melissa insisted I call him before going over.  I didn’t understand.  I always just showed up.  So I called…

The phone rang, and rang.  A woman picked up.  I asked for Raul.  She said, “Raul se falleció.”  I didn’t understand.  “Is he OK?” I asked.  “No,” she said.  “He’s dead.”  I couldn’t speak.  I had no idea what to say.  What do you say to a mother who has just told you that her son (your best friend) has died?  His sister got on the phone as I was falling to the ground.  I don’t remember all that was said in the next moments.  Somehow Melissa got me to the hospital where he was being kept alive on life support until his family was ready to make the decision to let him go.  Raul had a brain aneurism which burst in the middle of the night while he was playing music.  He died doing the thing he loved most, an event he had predicted to me a few years earlier.  Melissa was there with me at Raul’s bedside, when I had no idea how to cope.  She watched me as I looked at his lifeless body, swollen face and shaved head.  She was there.  She took me to his memorial service, held my hand and cried with me.  She didn’t even know this person but as an extension of me, she loved him anyway.

Following graduation, we did some more traveling, both to Los Angeles and Puerto Rico.  We played hard in those years but eventually it started to take its toll on both of us.  Neither of us were following our dreams.  Well, we were both trying but somehow it wasn’t in God’s plan for us at the time.  We both began to self-destruct, an event that finally destroyed our friendship.  We were both guilty but neither of us willing to budge.  We stopped talking.  Completely.  We’d see each other in the mall parking lot and pretend like the other didn’t exist.  What an example of our immaturity!

Full Circle

Last summer, as I was happily living my life in Santa Monica, I turned out my laptop and opened Outlook as I so often do.  There it was.  An e-mail notification from LinkedIn that read, “Join my LinkedIn Network.”  It was from Melissa.  I was in shock.  I had no idea how much I missed her until that exact moment.  Without sharing the contents of the message I will tell you that she acknowledged her part in the demise of our friendship and apologized for her behavior.  I was totally blown away.  That’s how you know a person in genuinely sorry for something they have done: they take responsibility!  She did and I was so excited.  She’d obviously grown up as had I.  That was all it took and our friendship was right back on track where we had left it (without all the negativity).  For the record, in case you’re wondering, I apologized to her as well and acknowledge my shitty behavior which led to our abrupt goodbye.

Today is a new day.  I tell Melissa all the time how grateful I am to have her back in my life.  I feel totally blessed to share a friendship with a woman who gets me.  She understands who I am as a person and perpetuates all that I am.  This is the definition of a friend.  One who sees you through the ups and downs of life, who doesn’t hold expectations, can listen without judging, be there to lend a hand or an ear, be honest with their opinion and always express their gratitude.  I am eternally grateful to have my best friend back in my life and I never let an opportunity pass me by to tell her how much I love her and cherish our friendship.