I’ve missed you a lot.
You’ve been in my life since I was 12 years old. I don’t know how I let you go so easily, after everything. But I did. I missed the odd date, then a few more, and then I stopped showing up entirely. And boy have things changed without you around.
I didn’t realize it at first. Actually, it was months before I started to connect the dots…
The poor sleep. The extra, unexplained stress. The tightness in my neck and shoulders.
I didn’t get it—didn’t understand how all these signs pointed back to your safe and comforting arms.
And then, when I did get it, I resisted. For a while.
I was fine without you. I had new and more exciting ways to spend my time. I was climbing, dancing, and surfing every week; I was stronger than I’d ever been in my life, and I loved it.
I didn’t need you.
But slowly, slowly, I started to indulge my nostalgia. First for a few minutes, then longer, and now every day. First only when nobody was watching, but then I became more audacious, bringing you to the climbing gym, the dance floor, and the beach.
I’m not ashamed of you. To the contrary, few friends have supported me so steadily.
Only when I let you back into my life did I realize what a gaping hole you had left behind. You have probably brought me more tiny moments of joy and peace than any person, animal, place, or thing ever could.
Yes, yoga—I have missed you. And I love you. And no matter how many times I push you out of my life, I know you will never hold a grudge.
Thank you for your steadfast, accepting, calming presence, be it at the center or the edges of my life.
An Old Friend Who Never really Forgot about You
Author: Toby Israel
Editor: Lieselle Davidson