It was a very Sex and the City send-off in the middle of Dundas Square: Jenna, fleeing into the cab with The Yukon, and me left in a flurry of speedy Toronto people, jostling and rushing about with no outward indication of what had just happened. With tears brimming my eyes I crossed the street to the area where my dad was to pick me up, all the while the thought that I had just bid farewell to one of my bestest friends in the entire world was stamped on the front of my brain. The lights of Dundas Square flickered and dimmed like the thoughts in my head, feeling like i had one-less friend to reach out to now, yet being entirely unable to process the fact.
Denial I believe it's called.
I took a deep breath in. I looked up at the billboards, the flashy lights, the stars and the airplanes, and I could not process a single thought. Would not, process a single thought. The moment lasted forever, yet it was gone all too soon.
So this is what it feels like to grow up I guess. To bid farewell to the friends you love and hold so dearly and take their proximinal closeness for granted. I can't just zoom over to Jenna's now with freshly cooked bacon in my hand like I used to. I won't ride in the scary, haunted elevator alone or with the girls again. We are a team: the four of us...We still are a team, albeit with now an out-of-provincer. I still have my beloved Katey and Krystal (thank god!). But to be there and see your friend off as they begin their life is something else. We won't see Jenna until June, and then she moves out to Newfieland for good, but I will be making several trips out East to pester (Krystal and Katey in attendence) her so it's not so sad. It's just - in this moment - bizzare, sad, happy, sorrowful.
This is what it means to grow up, I guess.