A love letter to my best friend

who is like family and honoring our bond.

My dearest Friend¹,

I miss you. I miss the time we could just call on each other spontaneously for a coffee, a chat, to let something off our chest or to celebrate the little wins in life. I miss coming together for birthdays or events. I miss snuggling on the couch, binge-watching “Sex in the City,” or catching the latest movie at the cinema.

I am sorry I have been partially absent for the past five years; that is how old my eldest is, so you can guess why. We have also been in a long-distance friendship since I moved to Germany eight years ago. 

When we were young, making friends seemed effortless for most people, but as you know me, a fellow introvert, it was never easy. On top of that, to make a friendship last, the stars need to align, and enough time is needed to develop a connection and ultimately form a bond. I am glad we had the chance. 

In elementary school, I was mainly alone until I met you and a few others. We connected deeply, spending hours talking about our hopes and dreams. Remember when the stars aligned later in high school and we all came together in the same class at 14, forming our “gang?” We thought we owned the world then, didn’t we? In hindsight, we were probably a bit exclusive, but what’s that if not teenagers?

These good times continued through university in Kuala Lumpur, where most of us ended up. I was fortunate to be your roommate and then flatmate. Remember our carefree days spent exploring the big city and hanging out with the rest of the gang? Oh, and remember how excited we were when my aunt treated us to a nice meal? Ah, scarcity does bring joy in its simplest form!

After graduating, we drifted apart a little. Despite us remaining in the big city to work, it was also a big transition for all of us. I was too focused on earning money, and my overbearing relationship did not help. But you were always still there. Remember when my heart got broken, you took me in without hesitation and wrapped me in the comfort of your friendship? I might not have told you before, but you have saved me then. 

During my long travels and sabbaticals, our friendship experienced a renaissance—a new golden era for us! Remember our “Eat like Friday!” texts after work? It didn’t matter which day; we just needed a big meal together. On weekends, we met for breakfast, or lunch, or to work at a café. Remember you had to ring relentlessly to wake this night owl here? Our lives were so intertwined then that we no longer needed to catch up; we just continued where we left off each time.

Oh, and do you also remember the time we went to Tioman Island with our friends for a holiday? The time when you wore a dress on a jungle trek and survived, with us stumbling upon the secluded Monkey beach of white sand stretching out for meters long? Remember how we were so exhausted after, we had to make a distress call to our resort to send a boat to take us home? This was just one of the many trips we made and will make together. 

Emerging from a jungle trek (some in skirts, no less) into a secluded sandy white beach called Monkey Beach. No monkeys in sight, though, thankfully!

We accompanied each other through seemingly simple everyday moments or special trips and big events like a new love, heartbreak, a new job, and moving home. This slowly formed a bond that rivals the family. You are my platonic soulmate²! 

This bond of ours was tested as our paths diverged. Some of us migrated for love, some of us moved for vocation, and some of us became parents. When I was childless back then, I didn’t realize the effort our mother-friends made to stay in touch. Now as one, I see why some call this phase the friendship dip; the sheer amount of time and attention children demand left very little for friendship.

Being far apart wasn’t easy, and the physical distance was compounded as we diverged further - I focused on building a family while you focused on your vocation. Yet, we stayed in touch constantly, and thanks to technology, we never really felt apart. It would, of course, be even better if I could invite you to come live within my vicinity, to be my ideal community, but that is wishful thinking, for now. Let’s not close this idea to the future, where we could possibly grow old together.

Undoubtedly, there will be more changes in the future. What not with us growing older, our parents aging, and growing children still needing attention? Who knows what other surprises or challenges life may throw at us? But fret not, my friend. Our friendship and bond have proven to withstand the test of time and distance. I believe in us.

Remember when I flew back to Malaysia with my baby daughter to be with my dad in his final days? You and our friends immediately came to my side. You were there every day, staying over, chauffeuring my mum and me, and bringing us food when it was the last thing on our minds. You talked with me for hours, processing my early acceptance of my father’s inevitable departure, while everyone else refused to. You, my friend, are like family³, supporting me when the rest of my relatives, except one cousin, were absent.

Writing through grief

This is how I know our bond is unbreakable and we will always have each other’s backs. We comfort each other during dark times, like sickness or death, and we celebrate together during good times, like weddings and births. Remember when you flew all the way to Germany to attend my wedding, be my bridesmaid, and give the wedding speech? Your presence completed the wedding, filling me with warmth and happiness, and I will never, ever forget that. 

But still, I feel it is time to reconnect. That is why we are going on our reunion trip this summer with our friends, just in time to celebrate our collective 40th birthday. And to think about it, I have known you for more than half my life, isn’t that amazing? This alone is already cause enough to celebrate! 

I have to admit, though, I have anxiety about leaving my youngest toddler behind. The mother-guilt is strong, and my daughter is still in the phase where she needs her mother a lot. I tell myself to give her the benefit of the doubt and that she is stronger than it seems and will do just fine without me. On the other hand, I wonder if I am the one who would not be fine.

I also appreciate the sacrifices you and all our friends are making to attend our reunion. As much as this is for me, it is also for you and every one of us - we should not forget to put ourselves and our friendship first once in a while.

Despite believing our bond will always tie us and hold us together, I know it is also imperative to invest in our friendship - to weave a few more strands into our bond. A bond that will carry us to our old age, if we are lucky, or if not, to bring with us when we leave this life. I can already imagine you standing there giving my eulogy.

So yeah, I know this has been a long letter. I did not expect to reminisce and write this long. Thank you for always listening to this crazy friend of yours, who occasionally comes with all sorts of thoughts, ideas, and dreams. 

I look forward to our reunion soon. Until then, I’ll see you in our ongoing chat. You know you can always count on me to celebrate the little wins, to share your burdens, and also to just, you know, to have someone you trust to talk to.

I love you always, Rachel.

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What are your thoughts

1. Do you have friends who are like family?

2. Are you investing time and effort in your friendships? Tell us how!

3. Share one of your best memories with your friends.

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