I Miss My (Celebrity) Friend

She was the type of person I trusted. She had a way with words that calmed me in times of chaos. We leaned on each other. I miss her to this day.

When I was younger, a conversation began between myself and an aspiring musician on a popular social networking website. At the time, we were two kids with big dreams who came from different worlds, hers decidedly wealthy and mine decidedly not. But the difference never mattered. Between the two of us, there was something special. Not in a romantic way, but in the way we all experience when a close friend understands us when the rest of the world cannot. That calming sense you get from the words of somebody who has no motive other than to care for you. That calming sense you get from somebody with whom you have no motive other than to care for them. When two people love each other in a way that pure, it’s hard to let it all go because you might never find it again.

We shared big but different dreams. Hers was to share her music with the world, mine was to make music for fun while doing my best in school so that I could get an education and move my family out of the upper-lower class. She knew. She had to know. But she never snickered, never looked down on me, and it never seemed to matter — that is the type of person she was. That is the type of person she is. Although she was from an affluent background, nobody was ever below her.

The conversations started small. We would send occasional messages to each other after school, shooting the breeze and dreaming about life. She was always a dreamer and so was I, I loved that about her. While many of my friends at the time would snicker at my aspirations, she would get excited about these crazy dreams and tell me the even crazier dreams she had. But crazy was a standard the world set, in our world, the other was capable of achieving anything they set their mind to.

As time progressed, our conversations became more involved. Before long, we were exchanging lengthy messages that resembled the length of a Louis L’amour novel. We talked about our goals in life, how we were going to change the world, our beliefs, the people around use, and things we thought nobody else could understand. And nobody could — but we did. We understood each other. Despite the distance, we became close friends and told each other how important that friendship seemed. For personal reasons, the time was tough for both of us — but we knew the other always had our back.

The conversation went on for nearly a year. By that time, both of us felt as if the other was something like a best friend who seemed to always get what was going on in the other one’s life. We had inside jokes, would write to see how the other is doing, would tell each other how awful the people that didn’t get one of us were, and built a sturdy support system of relying on the other. We planned to meet one day. But with fame came change and one day, out of the blue, the conversations stopped. I tried writing her a letter (she gave me her address), but it was never responded to. Part of me thought it might have something to do with the relationship she was in. Part of me thought that fame dictated it. Part of me thought many things, but all of me mourned the loss of a dear friend.

I never considered the relationship to be romantic nor wished it to be, it was simply nice to have a friend in somebody who shared many of the same thoughts, feelings, and emotions about the world at large. Although I am not sure others will understand, it was decidedly heartbreaking.

The person to whom I am referring continues to be famous. You know, we all know her. But between then and now, her life has changed drastically. I am unsure if we would still share such close beliefs and aspirations — I am hopeful we would, but one never knows. I believe that the business has likely changed her and that, in some ways, she puts up a front that agrees with the world rather than with herself. My heart breaks for her when I see this, because I don’t know her as the commodity you do. I don’t know her as paparazzi fodder, a celebrity feud, a gossip news column, or a musical artist. I know her as this broken young woman just like I was a broken young man. I know, like me, she is less broken now but still trying to figure this crazy world out. I know her as my friend. We were good kids. We were kind kids. We were kids searching for God in a world that, at times, seemed empty.

When I hear about her career in showbiz and what she goes through, I find myself more thankful for the life I live and cannot help but wonder if one day it will all be too much for her. I often wonder if she would choose to be famous if she knew beforehand what it was going to be like. If she knew the pressures that would come with the new life of hers, would she choose to go down that road? She is now in a place where she will likely never be able to escape her fame, never be able to gain back her anonymity, never have the opportunity to indulge in that luxury we all take for granted — to simply be left alone. Her level of fame is too high for that, she is arguably one of the most famous women in the world. Because I know she would recognize this story is about her if she were to read it, I hope she knows that I wish her well and will always be welcome to speak with me. I would love to tell her about all the exciting things that have happened in my life since we last spoke. I would love to hear about the exciting things in hers.

If you ask me, she continues to be a wonderful person.

Perhaps one day our paths will cross, but likely not. I wish her all the best and hope she finds whatever she seeks in this life.

Friend, your secrets will always be safe with me.

Anonymous writer, writing on medium. Contact at iwriteonmedium@gmail.com