All good here

“All good here” comes my reply. My brain on auto-response carefully curating the short, simple reply.

Just three little words.

Three little words slotting into another layer of a regulated dam built to hold it all back.

But that’s not what I really meant to type. 

What I really wanted to say is… I miss you.

I miss how we used to be. I miss venting and ranting, and setting the wrongs of the world to right. With you.

I miss the echo of laughter that filled a room as we chatted about everything and anything. Seemingly meaningless and pointless conversations that really held a deeper sense of connection than what they exposed in the surface. That helped to tear down a heavy mask held high while in the company of so many others. Conversations that could last for days, allowing me to unashamedly be me, and adding a dash more fuel to keep the ember of friendship burning. 

I miss days out with you, reminiscing about our previous escapades or choosing the parts of slightly drunken nights we would prefer to laugh about yet quickly forget too.

I miss how we used to talk, or message each there for no reason at all other than to simply say hi.

I miss how I knew you would be there for me. And although I will always be here for you, I miss that you may not know that anymore.

I miss that I don’t get to hear about your latest adventures, or celebrate your wins. And how you know nothing of mine.

What I really should have said is…

How is your mum? I hope your dad is keeping well! Do you fancy meeting up? Are you free to grab a coffee?

My head is keeping my heart from cracking open and asking what happened?

My head interjects, muffling the questioning cries, reminding me that life is busy. It gets in the way. Change happens.

Parenthood, home life, work, the social lives of tiny but demanding mini-me’s, housework, jobs, creating memories, juggling, juggling, juggling…

Like tiny grains of sand, unnoticeable at first, everything else slipped through my fingers, little by little. A silent chasm extending, self-doubt and questions falling deeper into it, feeding its deafening growth. 

Days of banter and smiles, nights of endless chatter, a shoulder for tears or tough words to push me forward, the warming embrace of a friendship reduced to a once a year pleasantry.

So yes, all good here.