At some point in our lives, we all experience a break-up. Someone comes into our lives, makes us feel like we’re not alone, and then abruptly leaves. Throughout high school and the beginnings of college, I have watched all of my best friends experience this, and have been there each and every time to comfort them and tell them that everything would be okay. When it seemed like the world was ending, we shout-cried Taylor Swift songs — and for when that wasn’t enough, we brought out the big guns with some much-needed Adele. But when I went through a break-up of my own — my first serious one — everyone was at a loss for how to console me.
Because although my loss was just as tragic and heartbreaking as theirs were, mine wasn’t with a guy. It was with my best friend.
We had been best friends since sitting next to each other on the bus in 7th grade, and had barely spent a minute apart in the years to follow. Her house became a second home to me, and when she entered into her first relationship in high school, I was there to read every text, hear about every date, and inevitably, be there for her when it came to an end.
We were there for each other through every major moment that a teenager can go through, and when college came around, we swore that we’d still be around for any major moments to come.
By the end of our freshman year at our two different colleges, we had both realized how empty our high school promises had been and how little we had in common anymore. I fought to keep in touch with her and to insert myself into her already-full life, but when that didn’t work, I resorted to just fighting with her. Eventually we stopped talking, deciding without ever actually saying the words that it was better for us to cease our six-year-long friendship than to continue hanging on to something that just wasn’t there.
In the year that followed I spent a lot of time crying, wondering what I could have done differently, trying not to drunk-text her, and avoiding anything that reminded me of my failure to maintain her friendship. The only difference between what happened to me and my best friend and an actual break up was that no one counted it as one. Not my friends, or Taylor Swift, or Adele.
I feel like this needs to be amended. In all of my years of dealing with break-ups, what I’ve found is that while people miss the sex (R.I.P. consistent sober sex!), what they tend to spend the most time mourning are the inside jokes, the constant texting, and the feeling of knowing that someone out there truly cares about you.
In essence, they miss their best friend.
I now know that my break-up was completely valid. Since ending my friendship, I’ve stumbled upon several other articles discussing exactly what I’m going through, and talking about just how painful and life-altering it can be. So why don’t people talk about it? And why don’t people sing about it? Because when my life is falling apart and all I want is my best friend to be there for me and she’s not, I should be able to turn to Taylor Swift or Adele or music in general and feel like I’m not alone. I don’t need another song about how a boy broke my heart. What I need is a song about how she wasn’t there to pick me up afterwards. And that it’s okay to miss that more than missing any guy. 
