I had a friend who cared for me so much that sometimes it frightened me. She would have done almost anything for me, and till today, I still shake at the thought of our fallout. That friendship breakup hurt me in ways no romantic relationship ever has. It is really painful when you lose someone who once knew your mind like a second home.
She used to text me like rain touches windows at midnight, would be soft at first, then suddenly everywhere. Most nights, she would begin with an, “Are you up?” Cause she had trouble sleeping early, so she’d pull me into those hours with her, and those late-night conversations became our own little universe. We talked about everything like our fears, dreams, embarrassing moments, family drama, and of course, other people who had boldly decided to do their nonsense right in front of us. Lol.
Her messages had the power to rearrange my entire mood. An ordinary night could suddenly feel alive just because my phone lit up with her name. Some people carry light into your life without even trying, and she did that so effortlessly. Life felt less lonely when she was on the other side of the screen.
You know there are friendships that become routine, and then there are friendships that become part of your emotional structure. Ours was the latter. She knew the version of me that existed underneath performance, strength and my carefully constructed “I’m fine.” We fell out because of something so trivial but the loss hit me real hard.
Romantic heartbreak is expected. People write songs about it, movies revolve around it, everyone prepares you for it. But nobody really talks about friendship heartbreak. Nobody tells you how strange it feels to lose the person you instinctively reach for whenever something happens. Nobody really warns you that sometimes you’ll still see something funny and think, I need to send this to her, before remembering you no longer can.
I think that the cruelest part of losing a close friend is not just their absence, but the ghost of your habits with them. Even now, certain hours of the night still remind me of her, especially when I come across such friendships in the books I read to escape reality. And sometimes when my phone buzzes after midnight, a small part of me still expects it to be her asking if I’m up.
My response to the Freewriters daily prompt
