A friendship is over. A friendship I cherished more than anything is over. A good friend that I had since 7th grade is no longer my friend. A friend that has helped me through my hardest times will not be there in the future.
I try to say it different ways. Maybe then it will sink in. I have to admit, though, part of me doesn’t want it to. I messed up. I know this. I read the situation wrong. I was so sure that she didn’t want to talk to me. So I let it go. At that point in my life, I didn’t understand why anyone would want to be my friend. Anxiety and depression were taking over. I couldn’t think rationally. I couldn’t support anyone else. I couldn’t even help myself. She had enough one night. Who could blame her? Said she didn’t know what to do anymore. So I let it go.
I took it as a sign. A sign to get better. To do it on my own. To recognize that I had the strength to. I didn’t reach out to her. I didn’t want to continue to burden her. I missed her. Oh god, did I miss her. It may sound strange, but she was my motivation to recover. It helped show me the light in the fog of my mind. I wish it didn’t come to that.
A little over a month later it was my birthday. I still haven’t heard from her. I still didn’t reach out to her. I was hoping my birthday would give the excuse to reach out to me. Maybe this will give us the opportunity to talk and bring ourselves back. She didn’t. That’s the day I found that she deleted me off all social media. It hurt.
In May, I felt that I was good again. Happy again. I did it on my own. Wouldn’t she be proud? She helped get me to where I was. She didn’t have to be my sole rock anymore. But no, she wasn’t happy. She was hurt. She was hurt that it took me so long to reach out. I misread the situation. I thought she wanted a break. A break from me and all the chaos and the bullshit I bring into people’s lives when I am depressed and anxious. But no, she wanted me to reach out. She wanted me not to give up on the friendship. I guess at the time, I didn’t see it that way. I guess that is what happened, though.
Now it’s August. I am moving next week. Starting a new chapter. A chapter she will know nothing about. The first time since 7th grade. I saw her sister tonight. Her sister said they were looking to buy a house together. That my friend got into a nursing program and will be quitting her day job. I was excited for her. But I don’t think I can share it. Now she will be starting another chapter that I will know nothing about.
My friend, or ex-friend, texted me tonight. I reached out to her earlier this month to possibly hang out but received no response. Tonight she said too much damage has been done. That she will always care about me and love me and hopefully, we will cross paths in the future.
So tonight, I hurt. I hurt more than ever. Losing a friendship is hard. Losing a friendship because of my own mistakes is harder. I often wish I could go back in time. Fix it. Fight it. But I’m here. There can’t be any more denial. When I told a person about the possibility of losing this friendship, the woman told me I will be fine. There will be more friends. She was a chapter. Right now, I couldn’t disagree more. Picturing things happening in my life and her life and us not being there is such a strong pain.
So to my friend: thank you for responding. I wish you nothing but the best. Sorry for the hurt I caused. Hope to see you in the future.
No mention of pain. No mention of the hurt. No mention of the tears. I let it go.