When my best friend broke up with me, I cycled through a tremendous amount of the mostly expected feelings. I was angry, I was hurt, I was confused, I was lonely, I was sad. I ate my feelings, and then starved my feelings. I cried, I screamed, I suppressed. But you know, mostly it was about me. How this affected me. Which, I believe, is still on the acceptable side, since I still don’t really understand the whys of it all.

But then last night, by chance, I saw two of her daughters.

And after the initial giant bear hugs and OMGs!, they excitedly sat down beside me to dish and fill me in on all of the things I have missed in the past almost-year.

It has been almost a year. Now, these are girls I saw at least once a week for basically their entire lives, as our friendship began shortly after her oldest daughter’s baby naming. Once upon a time, for many, many years, I knew everything. And now I know nothing. Nothing.

Back when I was stuck in my Vortex Of  Feelings, I didn’t stop to think about the six kids involved here—her three, my three. As much as I don’t understand, they understand less. As much as I’m confused, they are likely more confused. It feels unfair to me, of course. But I can’t even imagine how unfair it must feel to them, they are just collateral damage here.

I miss them.

But now I know that they miss me.

And  that is just so much worse.