I rarely let a lot of time pass between my blog postings. But the past four days have been a complete nightmare for me. I had a huge fight with Rian and I'm still licking my wounds.
Unfortunately, this incident coincides with another bad week of my life. One of my best friends is moving tomorrow. After being viciously back stabbed by a couple of stupid guys, Jonny has decided to pack up and move back home to Dallas.
I'm completely devastated.
Jonny and I have been best friends for four years.
Our first encounter was during my first year as the Culture Editor of our college newspaper. Jonny strolled in to our headquarters, straight from Texas, wearing tight jeans and a modest button-up shirt. "I'm interested in being a reporter," he drawled in a cute little southern accent. I fell in love instantly.
And so did he. Within a few days we were already going on shopping sprees together. He became a stylist for me--most of the outfits I have in my closet were thrown together by Jonny. And over the years he has grown to know exactly what would look good on me. It was like being best friends with a personal shopper.
And we spent countless nights lounging in his fab (now vacant) loft downtown, on the top floor, with the incredible view of the skyline. Sometimes we'd snuggle in bed, drinking bottles of Chianti, and watch Designing Women or the Golden Girls or Ab Fab. Other nights we would watch Barbra movies and then he would break into song and dance. And he was always brilliant.(Jonny used to be a child actor). And sometimes we would have these fab sleepovers, where we would just drink cocktails and eat pizza until we passed out.
He has seen me through break ups, dating disasters, and embarrassing moments. He has been my escape from reality. Someone to laugh with and party with, while the rest of my world was in shambles.
And I have been his biggest supporter. Every time he met a new guy (every week) he would hold these beautiful dinner parties (with delicious food, plenty of red wine, and soft classical music drifting in the background). It was my job to meet the guy, critique him, become friends with him, and then ditch him on Facebook after the two split up. I also spent hours on the phone with Jonny, listening to his latest tales about boys who never called or boys who called too much.
We were so opposite and yet so completely similar.
And now he's leaving...going back home. In a way I should be happy for him. He's going to be closer to family, he already has a fab job at a boutique lined up, and he will reunite with high school friends. But on a more selfish note, I really wish he wasn't leaving.
I'm going to miss him so much it physically hurts. Who am I going to watch Golden Girls with on a rainy night? Who am I going to sing Barbra songs with in the car? Who is going to giggle about boys with me and exchange raunchy stories?
I guess that means I'm going to be alone more often these days...or maybe I'll actually start taking up those offers from coworkers in my office to have a girls' night out. Who knows.
Jonny is leaving and that means my life is going to change.