What No One Tells You About Long-Distance Friendships

I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry and that I’d make the most of our moments of laughter and silence. 

On our trip, we did everything from sushi train tastings to failed attempts with the lime scooters, from usual morning iced-latte talks to drinking cocktails from boob cups, and from using the bathrooms together to burning that lavender incense on our last night together.

The funny thing is, I learned that long-distance relationships wouldn’t work by going through a long-distance friendship. By missing my best friend, I learned exactly what emptiness feels like and how breakable physical distance can be. The love never changed—if anything, it grew stronger. But how were we, two girls in their early twenties, supposed to perfectly navigate the 403 miles when we had every new adulting change that affected us in separate places, all at the same time? 

Going on a trip to reunite is a double-edged sword. All the sweet sensations of that long-needed embrace have to be followed with a “goodbye, I’ll see you soon.” And that’s just so hard. I cannot emphasize how painful it is to say goodbye to the one person you just know you need to be with for the rest of your life. 

“I’ll see you in less than two years,” we promised each other. And it took me a long-distance friendship to realize how much I hate being apart from someone I love so dearly. 

We used to grow up together. We spent almost every day discovering new things about ourselves. And now we’re constantly reminded that we have to do some more growing up without that. 

I kept my promise; I didn’t cry at that Paddington Station when she dropped me off at the Heathrow Express train. But I can assure you, my heart ached like never before.