My best friend rolled out onto a plane yesterday morning. The plane will take her on her long awaited European adventure where she will immerse herself in Paris, fall in love in Rome, get fat in London, meet new friends in Amsterdam, and laugh her heart out in Budapest. I am truly, truly excited for her. I know that she will have an amazing, freaking awesome time, but as I sit here typing this, I selfishly want her back. I want my best friend to come home. I don’t want her to have fun with out me! I’m a bitch right? Part of me wants her to wait until I, too, can go on this adventure with her. So that we can experience new places, perspectives, and cultures together. So we can try new foods together, take pictures together, dance together.
I received a text from her two hours ago saying, “Gaaaahhh. I’m in Paris!” I smiled to myself. Because as much as I want her back, or wish I could go with her, I have to swallow all my selfish emotions. I miss my best friend but I also know it’s not about me. It’s never been about me. My best friend. It’s her time to shine. Her time.