“We’ll grow old together,” she wrote. “And complain about our husbands.”

I remember feeling touched and hopeful that life was going to be different. A friend for life.

Then in the decade, through words exchanged, cars rides given, moves across the country, meals shared, failed attempts, carried hopes, bikes, gifts, houses purchased, places rented…distance grew despite living in the same city. I moved in my circle and she in hers.

Then today, I smiled faintly as digital photos of happiness scroll across my screen. It’s better this way, I think. No words exchanged, plausible deniability expected.