Hello, friend

Life’s journey is filled with unexpected encounters. While it is true that friendships formed at each stage of life hold unique significance, perhaps some of the most important to me, have been the friendships that I built in college.

No one in my family had ever attended college. I was especially nervous awaiting my roommate assignment in the mail, because I didn’t have anyone to ask firsthand about what it would be like to go. Surely, it would be much different than the last 18 years of my life, where I was constantly surrounded by people I knew and who knew me. Early August arrived and with it the envelope. It listed very basic information about a stranger. I got a name, a phone number and a hometown. I did what every person in that situation would do, and I Googled the name. In my case, the stranger had a very small online footprint. My impressions would have to wait until move in day.

When that day rolled around and all of the commotion of the fresh start had died down, there we sat, two strangers in a room wondering when it would be time to turn out the lights. Fortunately, I realized pretty quickly that my roommie was a very interesting person. She is intelligent, artistically talented in many ways, has the darkest but most endearing sense of humor and is incredibly kind. And those qualities not only made me admire her, but made me want to be her friend. So, that’s what we became.

Now, if you know anything about L!LAC, you know that Sami and I were also college roommates, but that is not who I am talking about. In fact, it was this stranger turned friend’s plans to study abroad that brought Sami and I together. The three of us made so many memories. We faced a lot of unknowns. We attempted to navigate the roller coaster that is young adulthood, and we tried to figure out who it is that we are and wanted to be. Throughout the years, our friend would go through periods where her mental health would consume her. As her friends, we would do our best to support her. There was no darkness that we couldn’t conquer together. Though, sometimes we had to seek better help; call in the troops. We knew when it was time to call her parents or talk to the professional counselors on campus for advice. All of us learned a lot about mental health then.

Finally, we make it to the last semester of senior year. The three of us had taken a long weekend trip to NYC. We’re laying in the hotel room, talking about nonsense, when our friend tells us that she planned on quitting school and was going home after our trip. Of course, we were shocked. We knew that she had been struggling, but even in her hardest moments, she always pushed through until she made it back to “other side.” But, as sad as we were to hear this, we also understood that she must have thought long and hard before coming to this resolution and that we could sense relief in her decision.

She left and we kept on until graduation. Immediately following that, we would try our best to reach out to her and let her know that we were still thinking about her. Similar to her small online presence, she was always a terrible texter. So, again, Sami and I were left anxiously awaiting a letter in the mail. Every time I would see her handwriting on an envelope, I would get so excited. I’d write her something back until my hand was cramping. I’d take anything that she would or could give communication wise. Eventually though, the letters stopped coming. She stopped responding and we were left with a lot of emotions.

We really missed our friend, so longing was at the forefront. But, mixed in were feelings of confusion and a little anger. Did we do something? Was it us? And how could she just so easily remove us from her life after years of being together? It hurt. A lot.

I read this quote once that to summarize said that grief is basically love with nowhere to go. We were grieving the loss of our friend. But, even more painful was the fact that our friend was still out there. It’s not like she passed away, but her exit was just as unexpected.

To quote our own lyrics, “it’s been years now, and I think I understand…”

Working through the cycle of grief, both Sami and I have struggled with our own mental health on some level. And, if there is one thing I know now, it’s that our friend certainly did not make any “easy” decision to move on from our friendship. Nothing about what she went through was easy. Do I wish that she was still in my life? For sure. But, I also recognize that sometimes when you are in that headspace, your brain can convince you that you are alone and that continued isolation is the answer. Speaking from experience and from consulting many mental health resources, I understand that that’s not the truth.

And thus, “Hello, Friend” was born. It’s a letter sung to our friend. (If you haven’t listened to our song yet, check it out here.)

I’m also not naive enough to think that all relationships last forever. People will always come and go from your life. We just have to cherish those moments that we do get together. But, if you take anything away from this blog post and from listening to our song, let it be that you are not alone. You do matter. And even if you can’t see it now, your loss would be felt by someone around you who loves you.

If you are struggling, you can find links to mental health resources from our previous blog here.

We hope that the rest of your May- Mental Health Awareness Month is full of compassion for yourself and for your friends.

Jamie