Dear [insert nick name based on some sort of inside joke],
This letter has already been written by someone else, although you personally may not yet have been the recipient. What I'm about to tell you is not unique to me, but I do hope you will find it genuine, because it is certainly meant that way.
Our friendship matters to me.
I know that I don't call as much as I used to, it's hard to find time to see each other in person, and sometimes even when I say I'll call or try to meet up, I don't. It's not that I don't want to talk to you or see you, I really, really do. It's just that most days the inertia of working, parenting and staying happily married overtakes me. The combination of those three things requires a crazy amount of output, and so when I have the small window of time to call or meet up, I find myself doing something where I can quietly, silently recharge. (Like writing, or yes, watching inane television.)
I know you know me, and I know you know I'm not an introvert. So I'm hoping you will know somewhere deep down that this lack of calling and hanging out is not about me at my core, and is most certainly not about you. It's about a phase.
Or at least that is my hope, because our friendship matters to me.
Please hang in there with me. I know that may be hard to do, especially if you feel like I'm not reciprocating your efforts. I fully realize that friendship, like any relationship, takes two people committed to staying together, so I can't blame you if you turn your attention elsewhere as well. I just hope that our friendship matters to you as well, and you'll keep me in your heart.
You are the chinchilla to my villa, the Paltzgraff to my train platform, the I-O to my Wuh and the civil to my liberties.
Your friend,
N
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