A New Definition for "Single"

As I ponder the loneliness that is my life, I have come to examine the concept of friendship. More importantly, the idea of “best friends.” According to the dictionary “best friend” is defined as “the one friend who is closest to you.”

I had a best friend in the third grade. It was the first week of a new school year, and we met in the bathroom. After shyly introducing each other and discovering we had the same teacher, the bond was quickly formed. We held hands as we walked back to class. By the time fifth grade rolled around, I had acquired another best friend. The three of us even went so far as to buy one of those best friend necklaces made for three people – a heart on a chain broken into three even pieces, symbolizing our friendship.

Sadly, due to district configuration, I was sent to a different middle school than my bosom buddies. We kept in touch for a while, but over the years, the friendships faded. And by seventh grade, everyone at my new school already had their “best friends” picked out. There wasn’t much prospect for the creation of an undying friendship since I was the “new girl.” However, I did make some amazing friends over the next few years, girls that I had never felt so close with as we experienced our first loves, first periods, the divorce of parents and the death of pets. I found myself strongly connected to one girl in particular. However, she had had her technical “best friendship” locked in since kindergarten, and there was no room for me.

By the time high school rolled around, my tight circle of friends had widened considerably. And during those four years my individual friendships grew and faded, depending upon class schedules, team activities, and general common interests. However, it was always vividly clear to me that when push came to shove, “best friends” always sided with each other. I seemed to be well-liked and included in all activities, but I could never shake the feeling that I was expendable, since I was not technically connected to another girl in the group by those two magic words.

You would think these to be the naïve feelings of childhood. But when I began college, the first friends I made were already talking about their “best friends,” whether they were from back home, or newly formed college friendships. Once again, I was the outsider, the third wheel clinging onto friendships that were not really my own. The thought finally occurred to me: I had really missed the boat. I had missed my chance at having a lifelong “best friend,” the person who would be there for me always, no matter how many fights we had. The person who would always be on my side, always choose ME first for kickball, always understand why I cried without even asking.

As an adult, I still feel pangs of loneliness as I watch the “best friendships” of others continue to grow. Even as grownups, women are sure to make it known who their “best friend” is. And it may seem selfish and dumb, but sometime I want to be the most important, the most special. These feelings are probably magnified because of my single status. Isn’t your boyfriend/husband supposed to become your best friend, and make all those feelings go away? That’s what I’m hoping for at this point, because it seems that time has run out to find a best friend – everyone was already taken, years ago.

I know they’re just words, just a phrase, but why do they seem to have so much hold over me? Why do they still create so many feelings of regret, even though I am a grown woman? Perhaps I’ve convinced myself that having a best friend there to cushion me would subdue the pangs of sadness and lonliness I feel. Maybe I’m just looking for excuses. The fact remains, I need to figure out how to stand on my own two feet. And learn that jealousy is not a positive emotion, and I cannot allow it to take over my life, no matter how alone I feel.

"Always a bridesmaid, never the maid of honor."