(Refusing to) leave the past behind

I've just booked a trip to England for three months from now. In the span of just a few weeks, I need to cram in much-needed quality time with a bunch of very beloved friends, as well as mine and Josh's close family members. It's not enough. I'd love to have a dedicated month for each one of these people (actually, more). But I have to make do with 1-2 days with each of them, and these memories have to tide us over till the next time.

This is what I knew I was signing up for when I moved back to Aotearoa New Zealand in 2021. I knew it, but didn't truly comprehend it. In my denial, I was convinced that I would be the first person ever to not see any negative impact on my newly long-distance friendships. I'm a good organiser of hangouts, and I love calling people. I keep a spreadsheet of my friends so that I remember to get in touch with people I haven't heard from in a while. I am a very Capricorn friend. None of that prevents the very real impact of being thousands of miles away from someone you used to be able to have sleepovers with on a whim.

Unless you are an extremely good video-caller (which I personally am, but many of my friends are sadly not so keen on them) it is tough to sustain the closeness that you had with someone that you previously lived in the same country as. There's a significant chance that you become 'legacy friends', where your connection is largely based on your history, your shared memories, old inside jokes, and not on actually being active participants in each other's lives. I am determined to continue the uphill battle against the relegation of my friendships to legacies - the time we can spend together in-person is the greatest tool I have to aid me in this. I hope that in this limited time in June we can have new/fun/joyful experiences together, as well as catching each other up on our lives, and making more plans to meet up again in future. I want to keep making new memories with everyone.

If I spend too much time thinking about my previous life in the UK, I yearn for the unpressured time I had with my friends and family there. It hurts to think about. I think about friends' kids who are growing up rapidly while we're away, and the weddings and birthdays I've missed, and living day-to-day life together. You might be tempted to tell me that I could just move back. But see, I've created a problem for myself. (Actually you could argue my parents created this problem in the first place by moving us back and forth between the countries throughout my childhood, but I digress). After four years in Aotearoa New Zealand, I have formed a community of friends that I adore. I have enjoyed being near extended family. I have felt at home in a way that I haven't felt in a very long time. I don't miss England (most of the time), I just desperately miss the proximity to the people I love there. I hope that those friends know how much I love them, and how constantly I think of them, and how their friendships are never 'replaced' or made any less important by the new life and friendships I have formed in another country.

The easiest way forward would be to just pick one life, stick to it, and allow the connections from that other life to fade into the past. Accept that you and your old friends have changed, and that you can't be active in each other's lives in the way that you once were. Whether or not that's the sensible thing to do, it's certainly not what I plan to do. I will continue to scrounge up time and moments together with these people I love, even if it means running myself ragged for three weeks straight to squeeze the absolute most out of my trip. Three weeks is not enough, but three weeks is what we've got. I will make the most of it.

If you're a long-distance friend of mine, just know - I'm always up for a phone call. I'll even answer a cold call. As long as you don't call me at 3am (and probably, really, even then), I will pick up. I just like hearing from you.

Note: If you've read to the end of this, thank you for indulging me in a moment of FOMO/nostalgia/ennui/missing my friends. It is hard to accept when your life choices lead you away from some of the people you really love, and that's a decision I reckon with often. If anyone has magically solved the problem of desperately missing and loving people on opposite sides of the world, I'd love to know about it.