To My BFF Who's A Better Friend Than Me Right Now

by Caila Smith
Originally Published: 
Courtesy of Caila Smith

To my long-standing bitch-buddy and forever BFF,

I’ve been the one to cancel our plans far too often over the past few years… I know. When I’m having a bad day and I call you to vent, with most of the phone call revolving around what’s going on in my life, you listen despite any obstacles you might be hurdling through yourself. During my most life-defining moments, I can think of no other friend who was beside me in the same constant way that you have been.

Quite simply, you are a better friend than me right now.

Because even though I bail on our plans, you still invite me. Despite remembering that our last phone call was a 30-minute vent session about how this and that was really pissing me off that day, you still make it a priority to call again when you can. And when you desperately wanted nothing more than to be a source of help during a time when I needed my space, you honored my wishes by supporting me from a distance. You bitch, piss, and moan with me over the things I’m bitching, pissing, and moaning about. And when I’m irrational, you let me know that too.

All the while, I’ve felt I do not compare to you as a friend.

I sure miss those days our friendship was built on.

Something I think of often is that I missed your daughter’s birthday party. I want you to know that, even still, it eats me up inside that I had to decline such a worthy-to-be-celebrated person whom I love like one of my own. Meanwhile, you’ve never fallen short for a single birthday, special event, or holiday.

Yet, I have fallen short as your BFF. And I think it goes without saying, again, that I’m sorry.

But you know that too. You understand that kids get sick, that my big family has rough days, that I’m not always the greatest source of reliability when it comes to playdates (one of mine is probably puking at that very moment, ya know). I am thankful you don’t serve me a main course of heavy guilt trip and a side dish of insult-to-injury.

You get me, even in the times when I don’t quite get myself.

Our lives are like a circus during these fleeting decades of watching our kids grow. The spontaneous opportunity to mingle with one another doesn’t arise like it used to. Now, we have screaming kids who rebuke our need for an adult conversation. Hollering “GIVE ME A FREAKIN’ MINUTE AND GO PLAY” has become our phone calls’ mantra. Yet we still pick up our conversation where we paused it mid-sentence, without skipping a beat.

Courtesy of Caila Smith

I love these new little details about us.

Today we have opposite schedules than we did when we lived our lives with spontaneity, kid- and responsibility-free. We have new jobs. Relationships we must tend to with others besides each other. New dreams. New ambitions. New failures. New heartache. And new victories.

Yet, I have fallen short as your BFF. And I think it goes without saying, again, that I’m sorry.

There’s no dyeing one another’s hair on a whim and yelling at each other for the unfavorable outcome anymore. No more 1 a.m. phone calls unless our world has come crashing down and we’ve dialed each other more than once in a row (our code for truly needing one another). And there is no more staying in while eating brownie batter and staring anxiously out the window, salivating like animals, waiting for the pizza delivery car to pull up.

I sure miss those days our friendship was built on. But because of those moments, there is peace in knowing that these hectic seasons of our lives can’t be used to measure our friendship. These seasons are just that — seasons. A brief lapse in devotion to one another because we have to focus on ourselves and our family.

I want to thank you for caring enough about me and loving me so damn much that you don’t allow yourself to get bent out of shape about the chaos that impedes our friendship. You know I still see you the same as I did when we were 12, and more. You understand that I’m going through my own shit, that I have my own mess, that I’m sifting through my own failures, and all of that in no way measures the way I care for you. You realize this is my own madness, and it doesn’t even come close to having to deal with how much I freakin’ love you.

There’s never been a second where our friendship hasn’t always picked up right where it left off… usually with pizza, BFF gossip, and lots and lots of wine that makes us giddy. Our lives stretch away from one another as we fumble through our new paths. But I’d be lying if I said you weren’t better at meeting me in the middle.

A day will come when you find yourself unable to find your footing. (We are awesome, but we are still human.) When that day comes, just call me twice if I don’t pick up the first time. Vent to me for the entire phone call, guilt-free. Cancel our plans when you need to, and know I will love you from a distance if it’s ever needed.

I’ve got you, and you’ve got me.

Love you always,

Bringer-Of-Wine, Bitching-Buddy, and Forever BFF

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