BFF

When I was a child Jill and I were inseparable. I loved absolutely everything about her. I even slept with her clothes that she left at my house because they smelled like Jill. When I grew up, I wanted to marry Jill. After all, that was the ultimate display of love in my world. We would stay up late at night giggling, telling the silliest stories about who's dad could poot the loudest. There were days at the beach that happened on the brown 70's carpet of her mom's den as we basked under our imaginary sun with our large umbrella and authentic seashells laying around us for props. We climbed trees, we rode bikes, I even had my mother make us matching dresses for our Kindergarten padgett where we both were flower's in Mary Mary Quite Contrary's garden. I loved her to no end.
And then we grew.
The magic faded as the years passed by. We attended different schools, liked different things, took different paths. Before I knew it, Jill was just a person I heard about through the grapevine every now and then.
Fade into high school...because the middle school years were just too much trouble and we were all awkward.
Donald. A boy. Can a boy and a girl be best friends? Yes, we were determined that they could. Although, we claimed the movie, "When Harry met Sally" as our own parallel story, we never crossed the line to relationship. We never kissed. But we were intimate with our thoughts and our ideas and our problems. We could talk about absolutely anything. We knew what we had was special and we treasured it. However, the main problem with a boy and a girl being friends is that there will always be the "girlfriend" that gets in the way of it. And she did. And being the hormone filled boy that he was, Donald drifted away on a flurry of different ladies until our time together consisted of a one hour phone call twice a year...sometimes less.
Onward to college.
Amanda. She was another Jill. I was smitten by her. We had so much to talk about and connect with. I loved her so dearly and would crush her with hugs as often as I could. We did everything together and since we lived, ate, schooled and played together, we were two peas in a pod...the yin and yang, the tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Life was exuberant around her...it was full of possibilities with plans ranging from how our children would meet and marry to  how we would grow old and come back to live with each other once our husbands were dead and gone. It seemed so solid. So indestructible.
And then there was marriage and children and the distance from her house to mine seemed to grow ten times...as did the distance between our connection. Still today we grasp at straws trying to rekindle that one-of-a-kind friendship that once was, but now is lost. We try and mesh our separately constructed worlds into a cohesion that just doesn't quite fit anymore with all the new participants like husbands and kids. I grieve it's loss quite often. And I wonder if she does too.
So
now I sit at 35...alone. Life and growing and becoming have robbed me of precious people to whom I gave away my heart.
I have other friends now. But there is always that fear that if I give too much, I will just be left again with the emptiness. And because of that, there are no BFF's. And part of me doubts there ever will be again. That is a solemn and sad thought.