For a long time I had felt sorry for myself.  I’d given up any hope of re-connecting with my best friend.  Years and years went by and I convinced myself that she had moved on.  I told myself that if she wanted to talk to me she would, so I quit trying.  Why should I be the one to make the effort, so I left it up to her.  How stupid is that!  The fear of us not having that same connection along with possible rejection (which was silly for me to think) and hearing she had possibly found a new best friend…how could I deal with that?  These thoughts were all unfounded, but yet they prevented me from trusting in our friendship.  So after almost a decade of separation, I felt as if a part of me was missing.  Not only had I lost my best friend, I had lost myself.  I realized that she was more than my best friend…she was a part of me.  She was the one person I turned to for advice, she was there for me, always encouraging me, always had the right thing to say and always knew how to make me smile.  So  last summer I got up the courage and picked up the phone.  I was sooo nervous, but the minute she answered the phone and joyfully said my name, I knew right then and there I had never lost her, she was always there, I just needed to reach out again.