This afternoon while I stood stirring my tea in a daze, looking out upon the balcony where we once wasted countless summer evening’s together, I suddenly realized that it has been six weeks now since you left and I no longer feel you around. I don’t jump at the sound of voices walking below my window or the sound of bikes along the street, hoping that you’ve come by; in fact, I don’t remember your voice or the look of your bike at all. I try to close my eyes and imagine your face, and I’ll capture it for a second, but you soon slip back into the shadows where I put you. My bedding has been washed and your things given to a friend, and there is no trace of you in my room to stumble upon. You have been put on the top shelf like so many unwanted toys, gathering dust, a chapter ended in a now-closed book.
The heartache has subsided and my appetite is slowly beginning to return, although I still find myself avoiding ‘our food’ — you know, the Reese’s cups we’d split, the hummus and Mexican we’d gorge ourselves on. I have yet to trust myself with my whole iTunes library in case ‘our song’ or something you recommended to me comes on, and the only films I can watch are sci-fi or thrillers. It will be months before I watch a rom-com without feeling the stabbing loneliness they currently offer me.
Today, however, I am experiencing a new kind of heartbreak, one I never expected to receive: the ache that comes from losing your closest friend. It’s only natural that when two people separate, the bond of friendship they once shared is loosened but I didn’t imagine I would feel it break.
I emailed you, you know. You never replied. The silence between us is crushing, I hear that you have been to my city and didn’t pop by.I fear that I will never see your face again.
The last time we spoke was when you ended it over the phone, and I met the person you had decided to become — cold and without remorse. I do not resent you for breaking it off and in fact I am sure that one day I will even thank you for this, but the act of neglecting our friendship won’t be as easily forgiven. Just like that, we’ve become strangers who once loved each other. Not being able to text you and ask how your new job is going or how your birthday went is destroying me.
I caught myself fighting internally over unfriending you on Facebook. If we aren’t friends in real life then why would we be friends on the Internet? But I know that once that tie has been severed we will be lost to each other forever and that is something I cannot yet permit.
I do not miss you as a lover, I don’t miss your scent or the way you held me, I no longer miss your lips or wish they would find themselves back to mine and I can honestly say that I have fallen out of love with you, but I do miss you. My friend, my confidante. The person who gave me so much courage and pushed me beyond and out of my comfort zone, the person who made me laugh until I could barely breathe. The pain of leaving you behind is almost too much to bear and I wish you didn’t feel like we had to do this. I wish you needed my friendship as much as I need yours, I wish you could see that we can be friends like we were before but I don’t think you will grant me this.
Somewhere in our distance and your determined silence, we grew sour. As much as I search for you in the dark, you are never going to reach your hand out to meet mine. I will forever be fumbling in our memories alone.
You vacated our friendship for good, and our chord snapped. You didn’t tell me you did this, how could you? You haven’t spoken to me since it happened, but I didn’t need to be told, I felt you leave, I gave you enough of my heart to notice when the bit of it left in yours was pushed out for good. This is the hardest part of the break up — love comes and goes every day but friendships are meant to last a lifetime and I don’t think I even cross your mind anymore.
If you call, I will answer. I am always here for you, holding out my hand, you just have to trust and extend your arm, I will catch you. It doesn’t have to end like this.
I miss you.