I feel odd. I believe there is a distinct moment a human can feel the loss of another as a fellow companion, a friend. I am not referring to the sorrow that comes with death, although the comparison between the two can seem unmatched, no: I speak of another feeling, a recognition of sorts. It comes to you like a foreseen bill, when you realize that your beloved friend is ceasing to be just that: your friend.
Now this is not a purposed severance, or malicious; it comes with growth. Few men share the same path as life progresses, and the ‘path-sharers’ are the ones we label ‘friend’. I realize I am at a transitory path, a transitioning stage. I am specifying and centralizing my path as my years go on, and the result: fewer sharers. At the youngest of ages we could fraternize with almost anyone, at least those who desired our friendship. Now, as my likings become more and more evident, my friendship screening process engages. This is not a bullying practice, but this is done by every societal member, whether they realize it or not.
So I arrive at a place where it seems that my path is rerouting towards a direction not desired by one of my closest friends. These directions are not opposing one another, but they are simply different routes to executing God’s glory on earth. This means that they will intersect, maybe rarely, or even just unto completion, but our paths will cross again. I assume this is why the feeling equates slightly to that of death; although we separate now, reunion is in order.
And this makes the separation bittersweet, bitter now and sweeter towards the end. Losing a friend only gives greater opportunity for another friend to be made. For it is true that one only has a handful of friends, precisely picked and kept, and a departure resonates an opening in the roster.
Farewell friend! I will miss you dearly. You were one of the best. I can only pray you find one who cares as much as I did for you. It may be a tough endeavor.