My best friend Anjali is moving to Astoria, and I have been dramatically mourning her like she's relocating to another continent.
She's moving one borough over. From the Lower East Side to Astoria. It's a thirty-five minute trip. I know this. My heart does not care.
For three years we lived four blocks apart on the LES. She was my 11PM "come over I made too much dal" friend. My run-to-the-bodega-in-pajamas friend. The person I could text "you up?" at any hour and get a "obviously, bring snacks."
When your best friend is moving, even a short move, something shifts that you can't quite name.
We helped her pack this weekend. Wrapping her mismatched mugs in newspaper, arguing about whether to keep the ugly lamp. And I kept getting weirdly quiet, folding her clothes too carefully, because if I talked I would've cried into her sweaters.
I'm 24. I moved across the actual world for this life. Ahmedabad to New York. If anyone should be chill about a friend switching neighborhoods, it's me.
But proximity is its own kind of love. The casual kind. The kind that doesn't require planning. And that's the thing about your best friend moving to Astoria — you don't lose the friendship, you lose the accidents. The unplanned run-ins. The "I was in the area" that won't happen anymore because nobody's just in the area of Astoria when you live on the LES.
Anjali caught me being sad and said the thing that best friends say. "Pooja. It's the N train. I'm not dying."
I know. I KNOW.
We've decided to be intentional now. Sunday dinners, alternating boroughs. She's already threatening to take me to the Greek spots on Ditmars, and I'm plotting the momo place near me she has to try.
Maybe that's the growth. When your best friend is moving, love has to become a decision instead of a default. You have to choose each other on purpose now.
My mom always says real relationships survive distance. She'd know — she FaceTimes me across an ocean and it still feels like she's in the next room.
So Astoria isn't the end. It's just the N train and a little more effort.
I'll cry a little on moving day. Then I'll show up Sunday with dal.
Some people are worth the transfer.
Love,