“20 children cannot play together for 20 years” – Yoruba Proverb.

Take a trip down memory lane to your childhood days.

You’re in the playground, surrounded by other children from the neighbourhood with whom you’ve become familiar and share a special bond formed through frequent interactions right there on that playground.

Every evening, as if summoned by an unseen force, everyone made their way to that venue, sometimes having to earn a pass from their parents through good behaviour. Whatever cost you had to pay to make that appointment was worth it. You just couldn’t afford to miss out.

Before long, the playground became sufficiently populated, and everyone clustered together in a huddle as you attempted to determine what the day’s agenda would be. Do you resume from where you stopped the previous day, or do you engage in entirely different activities today?

Whatever the decision turned out to be, you spent the next few hours playing your heart out without a care in the world about where your dinner would come from that night. You didn’t need to worry, though—the folks who brought you into this world were responsible for that concern, not innocent little you.

Every playgroup was different, yet similar in many ways.

There is usually that one overbearing child who enjoys calling the shots and dictating to everyone what to do. There’s also the shy kid who simply goes along with the group and often doesn’t have an opinion about anything; they’re just happy to be there. And then there’s the annoying kid who gets on everyone’s nerves all the time yet somehow still gets accepted in the group.

Those were really good times, and those moments with the other kids on the playground were some of the best moments of our lives. But, like all good things, they eventually came to an end. We grew up.

Back to the present…

How many of the kids from your playgroup are you still in touch with? Maybe one? Perhaps two? For some, the answer is “none.” I know there are a privileged few who still share strong bonds with their childhood circles, but that is a rare exception.

Over the twenty-something years of my earthly sojourn, I have had a few “playgroups” in different settings and contexts. Some were formed in schools I attended, at church/fellowship, and there are a few others I randomly found myself in.

Now, the big question is: Is everyone in your playgroup a friend?

The definition of “friendship” is highly subjective. There is an endless debate about who qualifies as a friend, and I have had to refine my own opinion on the matter over time. Nevertheless, for the sake of this discussion, I shall offer a definition to ensure we are all on the same page.

A “friend” is someone you can rely on to be there for you when you need them. Someone with whom you can share both your successes and your burdens. Someone who will stand by you when the chips are down and rejoice in your victories when you win.

Remember those other kids on the playground? You probably referred to them as “friends” at the time, but were they really friends or just playmates? Of course, some of them might have stuck it out for you if the need arose, but definitely not all of them.

In an ideal world, we ought to be that “friend” to everyone around us, but the harsh truth is that we can’t be that person to everyone (heck, I can barely hold it down for myself sometimes, haha). This reality should make us appreciate the handful of folks who fit that description even more.

Thankfully, I’ve had the privilege of experiencing true friendships that have brought so much colour to my life.

I have also lost friendships in the past—some ended rather abruptly, while others gradually fizzled out. Regardless of what form it takes, one thing is constant—it hurts. I’m not sure which is worse: the sudden realization that things have changed or watching a close friend slowly and inevitably drift away.

Friendship breakups can be tricky. Some experts suggest that they can be just as painful as romantic breakups, and sometimes even more so.

While there is an abundance of resources available to assist with managing a romantic fallout, few discuss the issue of failed friendships. You are left with a torrent of unanswered questions and often without any form of closure.

So, what do you do when you lose a cherished friendship?

In the past, I found it difficult to accept that someone who had once been front and centre in my life had suddenly become absent. It felt like a puzzle I could never quite solve. I would do everything in my power to restore that lost connection.

However, as I grew older, I realized that losing friends is part of life.

Some friends enter your life for a season. During the summer bliss of your friendship, everything is bright and rosy. However, that season eventually comes to an end, and the leaves of that once vibrant tree dry up and fall. The conversations become more sparse and infrequent, and the friend gradually turns into a stranger.

Studies have shown that our friend circles shrink significantly as we transition from our 20s to 30s. We grow up, move to different cities, become busier, and maintaining friendship bonds requires a great deal of intentionality. People also enter romantic relationships, which costs us friends, too (there’s research-based evidence to support this). Worse still, it becomes even more difficult to make new friends for the same reasons.

It all makes sense.

However, a loss is still a loss —and every loss is accompanied by grief. If the friend in question truly mattered to you, losing them creates a void where they once occupied. The fall season gives way to winter blues.

It is often said that there are five stages of grief. My younger self always stopped just short of the final stage—acceptance. Now, I am coming to realise that sometimes, you just have to let go.

If you have the opportunity to discuss things with your friend, go for it. By all means, attempt to reconnect. But if all fails, accept that the season for which they came into your life is over and move on.

Above all, cultivate your existing friendships and be a true friend to those around you.