One of the hardest parts about graduating college was the inevidible day when all my friends moved away. Rhode Island attracts a lot of students from New York, New Jersey and Connecticut, or “Tri-Staters” as my friend and I would say. It was great to meet up with these people, to share a common understanding of what a hard roll actually is and laugh at how obviously it was the Rhode Islanders–not us–who had the funny accents.

The not-so-great part is that most of these Tri-Staters had no intentions of sticking around after graduation. So as I made the choice to stay in the Ocean State, my friends and roomates loaded up their cars and headed home.

As time passed, it got easier. I have some great friends who are local and still see the ones who moved away every so often. But now things are changing. And anyone who knows me will tell you, I don’t do well with change.

Ashley is packing up her stuff and moving to the northern part of the state. Now, I understand that this is not a HUGE deal. If nothing else, Rhode Island is small. I can get to her new apartment in a half hour. 40 minutes if I hit traffic. But, right now she lives 10 minutes away. And before that she lived three minutes down the road. And even with the knowledge that her job is walking distance from my house, I am still beginning to slightly panic that I will hardly see her.

Then there’s Elle…my other half from college. Come fall she will have moved to D.C. And while I couldn’t be happier for her, starting a new life in a new town with a great career, I can’t help but be sad. Because while we don’t see each other too often, if we missed each other too much, she was just a short car ride away.

This all brings me to last night. As I climbed in my friend’s car to head to dinner, she casually said “I want to talk about my thoughts on moving. But not till we get to dinner.”

My heart stopped. The mere fact that she didn’t want to talk about it until I was in a public place with a glass of wine in front of me made it perfectly clear: I’m losing her too.

While she hasn’t made any final decisions, it’s looking pretty good that by next year she will be on the opposite coast, an entire country separating us. I quietly sipped my wine–willing myself to drink slow–as she talked animatedly about her plans to fly out there this summer and see if it was right for her. When she asked me what I thought I had two options: try and convince her to stay (for purely selfish reasons) or tell her to go. So I said what I know was right.

“You should go. I’m sure you’re going to love it.”

I hoped my smile, which felt tight and forced, came across as genuine. While I want nothing but the best for her, I can’t help feeling that with her departure a lot will change.

I can’t help feeling like not only is everyone leaving, but they’re leaving me. I guess it’s part of life. When my friends from high school returned home after college, I stayed put. But it seems different now. With classes and weekly parties a thing of the past, it’s really hard to meet new people. Where does a 20-something meet new friends?

Actually–and this might sound really pathetic–the person I’ve started to become really close with lately, the person I am actually beginning to think of as a friend…I’ve never actually met. Apparently blogging is the new online dating. Just for friends.

24, blonde hair, brown eyes. Loves martinis, shoes, bad TV and good pizza.

Any takers?

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