(Note: As I wrote this post, songs played on my Spotify account that I feel really spoke to me in those moments. Links to these songs have been attached to the exact words I was typing when I heard them play, so that you may enjoy the journey music took me on as well.) 

Today, I reached out to an old friend I hadn't spoken to in almost a year, and it was probably the most terrifying thing I've ever done in my entire life. 

You see, things between us had ended in a really weird place. I was upset and hurt about a lot of things, I think maybe they were too, and finally I'd had enough. I was ready to burn that bridge and never look back. So, I burned my bridge. The only problem was, I kept looking back. 

I thought that if I just went cold-turkey with all communication, I'd be fine. I could move forward, find peace, and feel free to live the rest of my life without this 10 year relationship. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Unfollowing someone on all social media, deleting their number from your phone, getting rid of pictures, and other things that remind you of them-- these do not erase the memories. This will not get rid of the influence that they've had on your life. No matter how upset you are with someone, no matter how much you want to be done with them, you cannot go on pretending like they never happened. 

You always see crap like this in movies and on TV, where someone just decides they're "done", but they inevitably reach the point where they tell the best friend "I'm not over it", and then the best friend says "I know". 

I went through this exact same fake-recovery process. One morning I woke up and said "It's over. I've tried. It's over." So, I decided to act on that. I deleted their entire online footprint from my life, and while that felt freeing for about 5 minutes, then I was left to wonder "will they notice what I've done?" 

Here's the problem. I'm kind of a passive-aggressive asshole. If I have an issue with you, more often than not I'll just keep it to myself because I hate confrontation and wouldn't stand a chance in an argument. However, I'll in turn act on these feelings of frustration by turning towards something really ugly: talking crap. I am fully aware of how horrible this is, and I could counter with "but everyone talks crap, we're only human.". That doesn't mean I should, too. I've been working on overcoming that bad habit as well. 

So, back to what I was saying before. I blocked them from my digital life completely, without any sort of prompting. There wasn't any specific, justifiable moment that was the tip of the iceberg. I took the cowards way out, and I waited to block them on everything when I thought "Hey, I'll probably never see them again so why even bother trying to phase them out?" And like I said before, this act of defiance was hardly a form of closure because then I was worrying about whether or not they would notice, and if they would say anything. 

They noticed, they said something. I vaguely replied that I was just in need of a 'break' from everything for a little while not necessarily addressing why I wanted a break, and kind of making it seem like it wasn't necessarily their fault, just a culmination of things. Obviously, I knew this wasn't all true. I was just too afraid (and also a little too emotionally exhausted) to hash it all out. I'd been hurt, and I was pissed off, and I just wanted it all to be over. They responded to my half-assed explanation with an 'okay', and that it was it for almost a year. 

After the our last conversation, the anger I felt didn't go away. Months after I cut them off, if their name was ever mentioned I would just start right back in running my mouth, as if all our issues had just happened yesterday. It was horrible. I wanted to reach a point where none of it bothered me anymore, but I couldn't let go. I tried everything. I would unfollow other people if it meant not seeing their face and reliving all those bad memories.

On New Years Day this year, I'd decided to just delete all my social media apps all together. There were other things going on at the time, and for whatever reason I felt that cutting myself off from the world would make me feel better. It did for a little bit, I definitely liked the fact that I was no longer over-stimulated. But like I said before: memories linger.

In January or February, I sat down on my bed and I wrote them a letter. I should be clear-- I was never, ever going to send this letter. It was just for me, just one final hurrah so I could move on. One long, nasty letter just telling them everything. Exactly what I thought, completely unfiltered. All the horrible things I could think of, all the things that pissed me off, I just wrote it all down in an attempt to get rid of all the ugliness I'd been carrying around once and for all. I made sure to end the note with some concluding statement that said "I'm leaving this all behind me", but alas, I still couldn't. I even had plans to tear up the letter and throw it away, but I think deep down I knew I STILL wasn't over it, because I kept the letter. Things stayed the same for the next month or two, until a homework assingment started to shift my perspective.

In my acting class, we are required to write something called a character analysis, which is an incredibly detailed essay about our character's entire life up to the moment our scene takes place, written in first person. Don't ask me why, but I decided to write this character analysis on Them. I felt that it would be better to base my character off of someone I actually knew, and whether I cared to admit it or not, I knew a lot about this person. Answering the questions about their life would be easy, all I had to do was change their name to my characters.

So, I started from the beginning, and wrote down everything I knew about them. Despite those pesky, hard feelings I still harbored, I stuck to the cold, hard facts. (As part of the essay) I had to write about hard times they went through from their point of view. I had to write about all of their strengths and weaknesses as I knew them to be in my most unbiased opinion, again, from their own perspective. I was essentially doing the number one thing people always tell you to do whenever you have a problem with someone: put yourself in their shoes. By the time my analysis was done, I saw in my former-friend a human who was just trying their best, like me. 

I started realizing that maybe what might work was forgiveness. I'm not really sure where that came from, I think it was something God put on my heart after I did my analysis. I told my mom about my experiences with the analysis. She told me exactly what I'd been thinking but didn't want to admit: "You have to forgive all that. I know it hurts, and I know it sucks, but if you actually tell all of it 'I forgive you', it'll do wonders." Mom's are always right, guys, I'm sorry, but it's true. 

From that moment on, whenever I would start thinking about all the issues I'd faced, and whenever all those gross feelings came back, I would literally think to myself "I forgive you." I also started praying to God, and asked Him for His help and guidance with this whole thing. For awhile, that mini conversation I had with myself helped. It didn't solve the whole problem, I wasn't completely over it, but I was beginning to feel even a teeny bit better. Things remained the same for awhile: not better, but beginning to mend. School and life had gotten busy.

Then last week some time, I was having lunch with my boyfriend. Somehow we had gotten on the topic of this anonymous blog I used to have when I was nine. Surprisingly, this was information I'd yet to share with him, so I dug out my phone, and sure enough-- it was still there (I've now taken it down, but I pasted all the old posts to a google doc). I sheepishly handed over the phone, telling him "This is going to be bad." He found it adorable, bless his heart. More and more I thought about that blog as the next couple days went by. It really helped me get through some rough times... before I knew it, I was digging out my laptop and searching "top rated blogging sites." 

Now, as I've been re-configuring Coffee with Ken, I decided I would redownload the last social media app I'd yet to go back to: Instagram. I did it mostly so that I could connect my insta account to the blog, but while I was there, I started scrolling through my feed and seeing what I missed. Sure enough, there They were. One little comment at the bottom of a mutual friends picture. My initial reaction was to shy away at the very sight of their handle and keep scrolling, but I don't know what came over me. I tapped on their name, and started looking at their page. At first, I had reverted back to the usual, horribly-bitter, self-preservation tactic I'd picked up long ago: I judged them. I felt the usual prickle of hurt at seeing that things were going well, and that (just as I had expected, and deserved) I wasn't in a single picture. 

"This is ridiculous, I am being ridiculous." I told myself over and over and over again. I began silencing the judgement with "I forgive you", because I knew deep down all that unkindness was just stemming from my own insecurities and hurt pride over past issues. 

Then, I came across one particular picture that just seemed to solve it all. The caption explained that, while it's been a slow going process, They have been working really hard to achieve their dreams and things are starting to look up. And in that moment, staring at that picture, I realized that I was also at fault here, despite how badly I'd been hurt. Almost exactly a year ago when they were going through hard times, instead of supporting them, I kept my distance and let them struggle. A lot had happened, and I was pissed off. I had been facing a lot of personal struggles myself. 

I don't even know what came over me, again God was putting something on my heart. Immediately, I was on my laptop, writing out an apology letter. I was brutally honest about how awful I'd been, and how I realized it was all stemming from issues I should've been adult enough to address. Before I could think twice, I was copying and pasting my letter one paragraph at a time into a message box, and hitting send. My heart was POUNDING so heavily that my fingers shook, and I actually had to pause for a moment. I couldn't believe what I was doing, but I had to do it. I had to confront all of this. Immediately after sending that message, I felt... free. I felt like I was taking charge and finally gaining some closure. Part of me had decided that I was never going to get a text back, and I was okay with that. I could work with this. I knew if I never spoke to them again, at last, I could move on from this.

But finally, a message. They were so happy I'd reached out. We made plans to talk some more when I come back home for the summer. 

For a split second though, I doubted myself. They'd done some things too, should I really be apologizing? I didn't want to make the mistake of letting them back into my life and being hurt all over again. Then I remembered the letter. The scathing letter, detailing all those disgusting feelings I'd felt, all the things that had happened. I took it out, thinking to myself "If this is a mistake, if they do not deserve my apology or my forgiveness, what I wrote here will help me to remember that."

When I read all the crap I had written to them, it just became abundantly clear to me-- I was doing the right thing. They had been experiencing success when I had been experiencing mostly failure. I didn't even want to think about it, but I was jealous of this. And for the longest time, I had remedied that by talking and thinking poorly of them. Last year, when they were going through a rough patch just as bad as what I had been facing, instead of helping them, I turned my back. Practically relished in the fact that they were down, too. I was sick to my stomach just thinking about all of it. I was raised better than that, and no one deserves to be treated that way, no matter what they do to you.

Instantly, I was brought back to what I had felt after doing my character analysis. This person, this friend, is just a person. An imperfect person, who is truly trying their best. Yes, they've hurt me. But I've hurt them, too. 

I took one last look at the pages. Staying true to the original concluding statement I had written in that God-awful letter, I told myself "You know what girl? You are leaving this behind you." I promptly ripped it up, into a million, tiny pieces. Immediate relief flooded over me. I hadn't even realized how badly all this had been affecting me until the moment I knew it was over. I felt light, clean, and new. There was no trace of bitterness or hard feelings anywhere. Not even in matters that had nothing to do with my friend. I had finally moved on from all the crap I had to face last year.

What I've learned, here and now, quite literally in this moment: Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes you get totally and completely shit on in life. And you can "decide" to move on, but moving on is a process, a journey. Its not one particular moment in time where you just tell yourself "let's be happy instead", because then you've learned nothing, overcome nothing. When your past sucks, eventually you have to learn how to confront it. Tell it you're sorry, and forgive it as well. Then, once you truly feel as though you've actually forgiven all the crap, and even if you tried, you can no longer feel the hurt and the frustration, ONLY THEN:  

Once you've done all that? You're unstoppable.