To The Friend I Have No More…
I don’t hate you, but I do dislike you. We were friends, close friends; I have known you since I was six. We had that kind of friendship – the dependable one. I knew that if I felt sad or lonely, I could call you and we could wallow together – chocolate, Netflix, the whole shebang. You were loyal, understanding but most fortunate of all – you were like me.
We felt the same things, you finished my sentences and you knew how I felt about everything. Take men for instance. You had struggled like I had, dodging the time wasters, the players, the guys who ‘just wanted to be friends’. We had consoled each other, used girls nights out, shopping trips and long gossiping walks to dull the ache of rejection. We bitched together. Talked hurriedly about the girls we knew who had found a man, those lucky enough to be in love. We could be jealous together, you and I – I felt that you were my equal, my ally. We texted, and called – I knew you had my back. When university started, you visited me and it was like it had always been – we just had more stories, more issues and even more things to discuss and dissect.
You were my friend and I trusted you.
I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t to blame – you just left me floating. You were my anchor and you left me unmoored. Out of the blue, you disappeared into the deep – leaving a silence so great I couldn’t shout across. You were on your island, I was on mine. But, for the first time ever, you wouldn’t throw me the map. I texted you about a million times. I told all my friends and my family; I asked them where you had gone, why were you ignoring me? Nobody had an answer, and nobody knew you like I did. It was like standing in the ocean, the water up to my nose and trying to scream. You would never hear me, my words backlogged and swallowed, you refused to listen. I begged and pleaded and apologised for things I had not done, but still you gave no answer. I tried texting you daily, weekly, monthly – I was preoccupied by the thought of reply. The absence of you began to feel permanent and I still don’t understand.
To the friend who left me hanging, waiting high and dry – I still don’t know your reasons. I did nothing wrong, yet my punishment is silence – however I try to reach you. If you don’t want my friendship, it would be fair to let me know. You were my friend and I was yours, yet you have broken all the rules of friendship. How can I be your friend if you won’t talk to me anymore? What did I do?