Her contact name still had a bright red heart next to it months after we stopped being friends. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but I never changed it. Nevertheless, in the spring of 2015, I lost my best friend.

We didn’t need phones to keep us entertained. Her dumb jokes were enough, our laughter always filled up empty spaces. Time didn’t exist for us- having deep conversations 4 hours after the stroke of midnight on New Years, or talking on the phone 3 hours after my parents told me to go to sleep. Calling her was my default, whether it was a tough day, or I had good news, or it was midnight and I couldn’t fall asleep. The 5 months we had known each other by last winter seemed like a fraction of the time it felt like she had been a part of me.

Morgan was my winter of 2014-2015. A wonderland of a friendship. A wonder of a friend. She built me, seamlessly, into her life. Her friends became mine; she brought the people she cared about together. I had a circle of people, people I hung out with, people who wouldn’t stop making my phone vibrate, people I could laugh with. For one of the first times in my life, I felt like I had a best friend.

During the fall and winter of 2014-2015, I discovered my sexuality. I came out as bisexual to my closest friends. They were all beyond accepting. But I remember most telling Morgan. I had waited, so I could tell her in person. As we walked in circles around the center of Rockville, I loved her more and more. She was automatically protective, loving, and willing to support anything that I wanted to be or do.

I was never in love with Morgan in a romantic way. She is a beautiful person, but that winter I fell platonically in love with Morgan.

I centered my life around Morgan, but I didn’t see other parts of it slipping. I forgot other friends, other routines. I had lunch with Morgan and her friends; all I saw in my classes were Morgan’s weird faces, our quick glances when the teacher did something questionable, and our fits of laughter. I didn’t notice anyone else.
When I saw my old circle of friends- Ryla, Stella, Selma, Maria, and Caroline- hanging out more often, becoming closer, without me, I was sad. I was beyond content with Morgan, with Tara, Annie, Ali, and Simon too. My freshman year had been set on the goal of making friends, finding a place- and I had one. I had a best friend, I had this amazing group, I was happy. But my mind rejects change. My mind won’t let me let things go. So I tried to salvage it.
The minute I mentioned being sad about seeing them all getting closer- I admit, unreasonably- Ryla blew her s***. That night was spent receiving paragraph after paragraph texts from her. She told me I had been a horrible friend. That I had been ignoring her, that she felt alone in all her classes, that it was absolutely unfair for me to have wanted them to not get closer when I was never around.
I had no idea how much had been going on in her head- sentence after sentence of what I’d done to her, how she felt. I had no idea about most of the things she said I did, I had no idea how bad of friend I’d been to her. I wished she’d have just talked to me. Talked to me in person, where I wouldn’t feel buried by words. Maybe it would have been the same in person, but I wish she hadn’t let everything build up to throw all at me in that moment. I felt attacked- but I still let her be the victim. I felt a responsibility to fix things.

The minute the texts stopped from Ryla, I called Morgan. It was 11 at night and I still had homework to do, but I needed someone. I needed Morgan.

She talked me through everything. She said I deserved better. That I deserved friends who didn’t attack me like that. But my mind continued to reject change. It continued to make me believe that it was my responsibility to fix things, to save a broken friendship with Ryla.

Looking back, I guess I overcompensated. I did get closer and closer with Ryla. I put effort into making sure I was talking to her enough in my classes, texting her, making plans to hang out more, showing up at lunch more often. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but one day I got to school and went to my classes and Morgan and I were strangers.

Ryla and I were best friends, but not like Morgan was. I couldn’t always be myself around her. I often felt attacked in simple conversations. Usually it was fun, it was friendship, but sometimes it was simply toxic for me, and I wasn’t comfortable in it. But somehow I still convinced myself it was my duty to keep it together, to put all my effort, to even fake content.

What was even more toxic was that I had nobody to fall back on. I didn’t realize the reason was because I didn’t have Morgan to fall back on. I didn’t have my number one call anymore. I didn’t realize Morgan was gone until, in her words, it was too late.

I realized completely one night in late May. I tried texting, calling, anything. She explained that I had hurt her; I had hurt all of my friends that she had brought me. They had opened up, and then I left. It felt like the situation was reversed, except my position. Except that when Ryla felt abandoned I was already beyond happy with Morgan. Now I was unhappy with Ryla, and out of chances with Morgan. “It was too late.”

I spent the night scrolling through pictures on my computer. Hours and hours, hundreds of blurry late night selfies and horrible videos of friends doing stupid dances, eating too much food. People who weren’t my friends anymore. Happy memories that I had let slip by. The more memories I remembered, the more tears hit my keyboard.
A best friend isn’t counted in years, it’s counted in moments they made you laugh, smile, cry, feel invincible.
Morgan made me laugh, smile, and cry from joy.

Morgan made me feel invincible.

In the past few months, I still often went back through old pictures, videos, text conversations, real conversations in my head. I missed her so much. I miss her so much.

It’s been a year since I met Morgan in the fall of 2014. I’m still close friends with Ryla- and Stella, Maria, Selma, and Caroline. Usually it’s solid. Usually I’m happy. Sometimes it’s still toxic.

I still miss Morgan.

A week ago I saw her at the library after school. I sat down, and we started talking. Not about what happened, just talking, like friends. Picking up where we left off.

I think that’s when I knew. Again. That she is special; she’s a best friend. It’s special to me, when you can pick up right where you left off, just like that. When it doesn’t feel like your relationship has changed or is broken, just because you’ve changed as people.

The next day I was happy. I let my hopes soar; I let myself imagine the idea of being able to be best friends with Morgan again. I worried that I was getting ahead of myself. I texted her, spilled out how I happy I was to have seen her, talked to her. That I had missed her so much. That I still missed her so much. That I honestly hoped we might be able to be close friends. I worried that she took much less away from our short meeting than I had.
When she replied, I simply smiled. I allowed my hopes to spread their wings.

She admitted that she missed me too. That she likes the person she lets herself be around me, that she hopes we can do this again too.

It feels like a full circle- a year has passed and our friendship is, in certain ways, in the same place it was a year ago. Starting to become really close friends. But in so many ways, it is the opposite. I remember so many tiny moments. I never forgot our relationship, it always stayed with me. I remember exact movies we watched, the shirt she was wearing when we watched “Lady and the Tramp”, the location of the mac&cheese in her kitchen, the walk to the park at 11pm on New Year’s Eve, our plans to run away to Oregon together, and exact words she would use to comfort me on bad days.

It’s been a year since I met Morgan. We’ve certainly come a full circle. A lot of pain has been dealt. But even if I didn’t have hope for a second chance right now, I would not trade those few months of the best friendship of my life for the world. Knowing everything that has happened, everything that went wrong- it was worth it just for one day with Morgan.