Why True Friendship Is The Most Sacred Thing In Our Lives

Letter #47

Photo by Surface on Unsplash

9 years ago, I left my best friend to go on an adventure.

I remember that day like yesterday.

I was so excited, and nervous, to go on my road trip to California.

I packed up my Mazda 3, went out front of Darnell’s house, and said goodbye to her. She let me stay there for a year, and we had many late-night talks together about Benjamin Franklin, and her divorce, and all our problems.

We worked together at Disney for 8 months, made many memories, and folded back the layers of each other until we could see the “real” person at the core.

I hugged her to say goodbye, and she broke down into tears in a way I’d never seen before. It was visceral, and human, and, you know, just something you never forget.

I thought about this moment the other night, and I said, out loud to nobody, “She loved you, Tom. That’s what it was. She loved you.”

Darnell and I haven’t been close since then. Our lives went in different directions, which is okay, but sometimes my mind wanders back to this moment.

Why is this so special?

Friendship. It’s cool, right? Obviously. We all know that. It makes us feel good. But why is it special?

I had a friend named Rico in college. He was on the wrestling team, and he was an absolute monster. He was from the Dominican Republic, I think, and he was one of my favorite guys on the team.

Since we were near the same weight, we’d wrestle in practice a lot, and it was so fun because we were so evenly matched.

Anyway, one day coach made us wrestle a full 7-minute match at practice. I had to wrestle Rico, who was expected to qualify for Nationals and possibly even be an All-American, and I actually beat him in a very close match.

Nobody else knew I beat Rico, but we both knew it as warriors. I felt so proud of myself, but I also felt bad for Rico, who was visibly upset. A few minutes later, he came over to me and said “Tom, you keep that up and you’ll be an All-American,” or something. I never forgot it. It was basically him telling me that he thought I was really good, and it showed so much maturity for him to do that. Nobody wants to admit when they’ve been beaten, but he did with me.

A few weeks later, I texted Rico to talk, and he told me to come to his apartment.

I told him I was thinking of quitting the wrestling team. I had a horrible year so far, and I was unknowingly knee deep in a battle with a disease that would wreak havoc on my life (and my intestines lol). I went to him to talk, to see what he would say.

Rico, god bless him, was so incredible. He took this situation as serious as a heart attack, and I could tell he was honored that I came to him. My admission that I was thinking of quitting the team must’ve been such a blindside hit he didn’t see coming. I was really good. I was one of the best guys on the team at practice, but I just couldn’t perform under the bright lights for some reason. I lost my confidence.

“Tom, I know you’ll make the right decision,” he said, and what he meant was “I know you won’t quit."

I quit literally the next day lol.

Next time he saw me he gave me a big hug. A lot of the guys on the team did, too. They were cool about it, and I appreciated that.

Rico and I became roommates the following year, which is the same year he became an All-American, and I watched it live on my computer. I was so proud of him, and sent him a text immediately. A few months later, I got an invitation in the mail to his wedding. He wanted me to be one of his groomsman!

At the wedding, my old wrestling coach—who I said “I quit” to—came up to me and said “I didn’t know you and Rico were so close,” almost insinuating that someone from the wrestling team should be a groomsman in my place—not someone who quit the team after 9 months of being on it.

I always remembered that question.

It was a fair one, to be honest, but there was something he missed.

Rico and I had a brother-to-brother moment. I showed him all my cards, and trusted him in one of the most important moments of my life. That was not lost on him AT ALL. Wrestling WAS my life back when I was 19 years old. Quitting wrestling? Well, that was a very important moment for me.

And I doubt that anybody else on the wrestling team—ever—had a moment with Rico like I did with him.

Why? Because it’s terrifying to put all your cards on the table with another human being. You can say hi to people you know, exchange pleasantries, and act like you like one another, but it’s a totally different thing to come to them and trust them in one of the most important moments of your life.

That’s a line so many people are afraid to cross. We might show someone one of our cards, or two of our cards, but all of them? That takes guts, and, weirdly enough, that’s all it takes to really forge a bond with someone that’s way stronger than years of shared experiences, or superficial conversations.

Just one moment, like 10 seconds, where you decide to lay it all out on the table to someone else. That’s sacred.

Why is true friendship so sacred?

Because we only have one life. There’s so many people we meet who come and go, and who barely leave a mark on us. Then there are those who kick the door down, grab a can of spray paint, and make a three-story mural on our hearts. They mark our souls for life. This fleeting life we have that’s full of pain and uncertainty. For someone to be a bright spot in THAT? It’s everything.

And when you mark someone else’s soul, you know this is the most important thing you could ever do as a human being. You feel like you matter. You feel like you’ve done something monumental. They’ll always remember you—out of all the thousands of people they met—they’ll remember you.

Our life is our life. That's all we have. And for someone to be one of the bright spots in that is so beautiful. It’s sacred.

So when I think about saying goodbye to Darnell, and crying with her on her driveway, I think about how that was one of the most important parts of my life, and how I know I’ve lived a meaningful one for having had it.