I’ve known them since I was 10 years old. We’ve gone through everything together- pimples, training bras, hating our parents, loving our parents, hating boys, loving boys (we’re back to hating them, FYI) high school, mean girls – you get my point. We were that group of girls who spent every waking moment together, who knew everything about each other, and considered the term ‘best friends’ a promise, not a label.
And then we came to Israel. And while Israel is undeniably amazing, it brought about a whole new string of challenges. Ironically enough, we all ended up going to different seminaries. Which is fine – friendships are not always about being the same. I love my school, and I love my friends, but it’s not the same as the people you grew up with, and it’s not exactly easy to keep in touch.
You’d think it would be – after all, don’t we all have blackberries and FaceBook and IM? Shockingly enough, we don’t all have blackberries (Yes, I have one, stop judging me!) and as far as FaceBook goes, well, seminary internet leaves quite a bit to be desired. I may or may not have resorted to standing in the lobby screaming at my laptop, and it may or may not have worked.
We’re all on different schedules, and it is near impossible to coordinate them for a Shabbos or a dinner or even a Skype date. Staying friends is not nearly as easy as I thought it would be. It sucks.
But, as my mother told me – can someone explain to me how they’re always right, and how I can get those powers without having another human being inside of me for 9 months? – this year is really just a ‘practice round’ for our real lives. And if we’re suffering while we’re all in the same time zone, how much harder is it going to be when we’re halfway across the world and desperately juggling work, school and boyfriends all the while praying we don’t let any of them fall to the ground?
So we’re learning. We’re learning that just because we don’t speak everyday doesn’t mean we’re not friends. We’re learning how the little things – a quick email, a picture of something that makes us think of the others – count, and how they matter. We’re learning that if a friendship is dependent on proximity, it’s not a real friendship at all.
I’m not going to lie to you – some of my friendships have been unable to withstand the distance. Some relationships wither away, and you mourn for what used to be.
Now, before you all cancel your tickets to Israel and kidnap your friends and stick them in a padlocked basement, be aware that while I have lost some friends, I have kept even more. We’ve adapted. We’re not the same people, and we’ve all come to the realization that we don’t have to be. It’s an amazing experience, and not what you should shy away from just because you’re afraid of what you may lose.
It’s hard. But the friends you keep? They make it all worth it.
