Friendship Lost and Found: Reuniting After a Falling Out

When I interviewed Grace for an article in Cosmopolitan called, “Young Women Who Made a Mint," we became fast friends. We were in our 20s, and we fell deeper into “twinship” the first time she came to my apartment in Queens, pushed some books off a chair to sit, and offered my cat Thor cheese. He declined, sauntering off to lick where his balls used to be.

We had crazy Lucy-Ricardo-and-Ethel-Mertz style exploits, like sneaking onto the Seinfeld set at Universal Studios when cast and crew were on break to steal a memento and pretending to a Beverly Hills realtor we were one percenters so we’d be shown celebrities’ mansions. After the failure of our joint business venture—a line of naturopathic cosmetics—Grace ghosted me for 11 years. I pined like we’d shared the same womb. Triumphs had a hollower tinge because the person who knew me best wasn’t there to share them, and sorrows were harder to bear.