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How many of us have someone like that in their lives? I know I do and her name is Emily.
I first met her in tenth grade. She was awkward, shy, and always did her homework. Because of this, I asked her one day if I could copy an assignment I missed due to skipping class.
Without hesitation, she said yes and from that yes we had a whole conversation. There was no awkwardness as we spoke. We knew each other instantly and from that moment on we were inseparable.
Aristotle said, “"What is a friend? A single soul in two bodies" and that describes us perfectly. We had the ability to finish each other’s sentences and we understood exactly what the other thought without having to use words. We had the same quirks, same love of obscure fifties music, and the same passion for living and being silly. We were in complete synch with every movement and thought we had.
When I was twenty and living in New Zealand, my brother-in-law passed away suddenly in a tragic accident. The first person I called was Emily. She listened intensely as I spoke and then softly asked what she could do.
“You can pick me up at the airport tomorrow,” I said. As she did when we were sixteen, she said yes without any hesitation. In my state of shock over losing someone, I never stopped to ask if she had to take time off work or knew how to get there. It wasn’t until years later that I found out that she had to beg for time off and turned a one-hour drive into three by getting lost over seven times while trying to find the airport. I didn’t know that at the time because when she picked me up, she never complained about what she had been through. Instead she consoled me and supported me as she thought only of my comfort. She understood what I needed without me having to tell her.
That same year, we moved to a small resort town in the Canadian Rockies. There we got our first apartment together and became known around town as “The Girls” because one of us was never seen without the other.
During this time we seemed to get even closer. Our other roommates always remarked on our friendship and were envious of the connection we had. When we saw how lonely others were, we were glad to have each other. We were certain that because of our connection, we’d be friends forever.
But two years after rooming together, it didn’t look like that would happen.
Emily started to become withdrawn and hostile towards me. Instead of spending time together, laughing and gossiping, she avoided me at all costs.
Instead of being confused by her actions, I understood why. I was in her way.
In all the years of us being together, she felt I always somehow upstaged her. I was the one who had
traveled, I had the experiences she’d like to have, and I was the outgoing one. I received the attention from others that she wanted, but didn’t get. Where I had confidence, she had insecurities. While I had my own identity, she felt like she was my shadow.
Despite us being so close, we hadn’t learned to tell the truth. Because of that, years of her being frustrated by me had accumulated into resentment. She didn’t feel like she could do anything without my approval and perhaps, that was true. I adored her and wanted to protect her from hurt. Instead of letting her figure out who she was, I tried to tell her.
There came a point when I realized the only way for her to be happy, was for me to not be around. I knew she needed to get her independence and as long as I was in the picture, it wouldn’t happen.
I had to have faith that our connection could withstand a separation, and I asked her to move out.
I didn’t explain my motives to her, I didn’t try to tell her it was for the best, I didn’t say “lets remain friends” and I didn’t give her a choice. Flatly, I asked her to move out. I knew that if I acted cold she would be angry with me and that would give her the push to go out on her own. By hating me, she’d figure out how to do things her own way. I gave up a part of me, to help Emily find a part of her.
It was hard at first, to be away from her and not know what was going on. It was harder enduring comments from people all the time, asking where my better half was. Sometimes I’d catch glimpses of her in town and would want to rush over to her to see if she was happy, but I didn’t. I had to let her breathe.
Eventually, I moved on. I created new friendships, just never on the same level as with Emily. Even with the strong connection I had with my husband, it just wasn’t the same as with her. She was my soul mate and I missed her.
Four years after I asked her to leave; I called her mother's house to find out where she was. I had to know, even if Emily never wanted to hear from me. But when I called, Emily answered the phone.
“Emily” I asked, surprised at her voice.
“Oh my god,” she replied.
From there we had an awkward conversation as we caught up on each other’s lives. She told me of all the things she had done – things I knew she wouldn’t have done if I was around. She had come into her own and I was glad. We never spoke of what happened the day I asked her to leave or all that came because of it. It was a polite conversation as only those who have been estranged from one another can have. We exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch. I hung up the phone feeling that I should have a sense of closure, but I didn’t.
She was my friend. She had always been my friend, even when we weren’t speaking. I wanted to be close friends with her again. My husband told me you can’t go back, and I didn’t want to. I knew that if we were going to become friends again we had to move forward and start over.
What needed to be different this time around in our friendship was to not assume that because we shared a special connection, our friendship would just automatically work. I realized what was missing before was honesty, and this time that had to be a priority if we were to reconnect.
So I wrote her a long letter in which I took responsibility for the day I asked her to leave, as well as other things. Things like being over-protective and overbearing, and taking her for granted and making too many assumptions in our friendship. At the end of the letter I told her that I loved her and that I missed her.
She never acknowledged the letter with words, but she did with her behavior. We went from acting like awkward acquaintances to being the friends — and soul mates — that we once were. She began to write me more and more and our conversations went back to the gossipy notes we used to have that made us laugh. She included me in her life and we began a new relationship as adults - a very honest and real relationship.
When we reminisce now of our ten year history, it’s with laughter and joy. Our husbands shake their heads at some of our stories we tell. My husband still can’t believe that after all the years of separation and all that we’ve been through, how close Emily and I have become again.
However, I’m not surprised. After all, she is my soul mate, my best friend, and a part of me. The only thing different now is that I don’t take her for granted. I know now that it takes honesty and sometimes a little bit of effort to keep our relationship real and working.
After all, sometimes even soul mates need a little help.
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