He was my best friend, my go-to-guy. I could turn to him for anything and he would be right there. I took full advantage and, I must admit, by the time he left for college I had become dependant on him.

The first couple months of him being gone were hard; he had suddenly gotten wrapped up in a world of issues that I couldn't yet fathom, and he now had no time for his own problems, much less mine. I felt as if I had been thrown out into a world that I had no knowledge of. Other than him, I had no one I trusted enough to guide me through my problems. I had to turn to myself for guidance; something I think I had never really done before. And, so, I tried.

I would like to tell that I succeeded amazingly and never looked back, but then that would be a lie. Sure, sometimes I would feel strong. I would even wonder why I needed him in the first place. Of course, those were usually times when I didn't need anyone; times when there wasn't a thing wrong to be seen. Problematic times, well they were a bit different. Immediately after a problem arose, I would think of running to the phone and calling him. I expected him to be there as always. And then, I would remember and fall apart. I was stuck on the fact that he wasn't there, almost mad that he couldn't tend to my needs and put his aside. Most of my junior year, I didn't know how to handle myself and I ended up going about things the wrong way. I would jump ahead instead of concentrating on my problem. I would always blow off the problem in an attempt to figure out how I could be independent. I couldn't see that all I had to do was take the baby steps and the rest would follow along. It wasn't until summer that I finally realized.

He had returned from college for summer vacation and I was excited. I thought that all I had to do was to tell him what had been up and get help for the problems I had. For some reason, I thought that once those problems were resolved, I would be able to deal with any other concern that arose thereafter.

So, with all intent to do just that, I went to visit him after he moved back home. He tried to tell me gently that he would more-than-likely not have much time this summer. The plan was to get a job and work on his schoolwork so he could be ahead when he returned. I, once again, couldn't go to my go-to-guy. I was crushed inside. I couldn't put it off any longer, I had to deal with things on my own.

Most of that summer, I hardly even spoke to him. And the space did me good. Suddenly, things began to click and fall into place for me. It was clear to me that I had concentrated too much on the 'problems'. I knew I had to give myself time to view things objectively, not purely emotionally, before I could solve anything. I began to concentrate on things that were more important. I formed goals for myself and put my energy into finding out who I really was and what I really wanted.

I have become more self-reliant and more confident than I ever dreamed possible. He remains my best friend but not my go-to-guy; I can now go to myself.