Falling out with friends is the worst pain imaginable. Even worse than a heartache — in the long run.
I was standing in a dire wine bar across the road from my work, waiting for my best friend to meet me (as we often did) in the middle of the afternoon for a sneaky drink. She had finished her on-air breakfast shift on the radio, and I had finished editing Big Brother trailers at work.
But this time, instead of feeling giddy with excitement, I was nervous. I had to tell her I was back together with him.
Watch: Best friends translated. Post continues below.
My best friend Nicki, is the absolute best best friend. You know the kind? Fiercely loyal, protective and can cut through sh*t like a hot knife through butter. We met at the beach when we were both young and single and working in small-town radio. It was friendship at first sight.
When Nicki came over that first night, we sat on my little bed, sharing makeup, clothes and secrets, and she told me she was thinking of dating my new co-worker.
"He’s asked me out, and I think I’m going to go for it," she said, scraping the last of the mascara out of the tube.
"You don’t mean Chris, do you?" I replied, pulling on her halter neck top.
"Yes. Why?" she said, eyes on me suspiciously.
"I was actually with him last night."
"No!" she said, mouth wide.
"Yes," I said, nervously giggling. "Holy sh*t. What a player."
From that moment, Nicki and I were inseparable. Chicks before dicks. Besties forever. One of the great loves of my life.
Until I started seeing him. Nicki had spent most of the week before picking me up from my tear-stained bedsheets, telling me to shower, feeding me endless cups of tea, and trying to make me see that I was worth more than this relationship. My self-esteem was so intertwined with his attention that I was unable to function as a whole person myself. As a friend, she must have found it extremely difficult to watch.