I’m sorry it’s so hard to get me to agree to plans. I’m sorry about how early I leave parties. I’m sorry about how quiet I am in conversations. I’m sorry about how long it can take me to answer texts. I’m sorry about how quickly my energy gets drained, even when I’m around people who mean the most to me, people who I love getting to see.
I’m sorry for all the times I disappointed you when you were expecting to see me. I’m sorry for all the times I canceled plans at the last second with an excuse about working or recovering from the flu or forgetting I already agreed to family plans. I’m sorry for all of the little white lies I’ve told in order to get out of social situations.
I hope you realize my anxiety is the reason why I’ve placed so much distance between us. I hope you realize my flakiness has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my anxiety. I love spending time together. I love being around you. But sometimes, my anxiety makes it impossible for me to express those emotions to you.
I’m sorry my fear of rejection has made me seem heartless at times. If you haven’t gotten a text from me in a while, it’s not because I’ve stopped thinking about you. It’s because I’m worried you won’t answer me. If you haven’t been invited over to my place in a while, it’s not because I want nothing to do with you. It’s because I’m worried you’ll come up with an excuse to avoid me.
I’m sorry if you’ve ever felt like you weren’t important to me, like I couldn’t care less about whether our friendship survived or faded away — because, in reality, I care too much. Sometimes, I have a hard time answering texts because I care about saying the right thing. Sometimes, I have a hard time gathering the courage to jump into a conversation because I care about whether I come across as funny or stupid, entertaining or a bore.
I’m sorry my anxiety has put distance between us. I never want you to feel like I’ve forgotten about you. I never want you to feel like I don’t care. I love you and appreciate you and cannot wait to see you again — but sometimes, my anxiety makes it hard for me to speak those words aloud.
I’m sorry about the times when I kept my problems to myself instead of turning to you for advice.
I’m sorry about the times when I went missing for weeks instead of sending you an update text.
I’m sorry about all the times I was a shitty friend because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve someone who is reliable and honest and reminds you how much you mean to them whenever you’re feeling down — and I’m working on doing those things more often. I’m working on stopping my anxiety from pulling me away from people like you, people who deserve more.