I’d say the last six months have been tumultuous but that word seems light for accurate description
It’s hard to say how it feels when you’ve spent the last five and a half years with someone nearly everyday and you can’t get them to return your phone calls.
I guess I don’t have room to talk because I haven’t called that much but when the result of any attempt at communication is often silence can you blame me? I can’t blame you, because I have done that too, but we’re both complicit.
I suppose I regret a lot of how I internalized this in the days leading to your departure, and I shouldn’t have been so neglectful on those trips, but you would hardly look at me, let alone hug me or kiss me, and I felt abandoned and hurt and when you didn’t even want to spend our last night together talking, it pushed the knife in deeper.
I think a lot about how this came on slowly and how a lot of it was just us being reactionary toward each other, but that thought seems moot now that you’re gone.
I wish you’d pick up the phone and think of calling me once in a while, not because I’m being selfish or something like that, but it’s hard to not worry about a best friend.
Speaking of best friend, it’s a little fucked up that I can hardly get a text back from you, I can’t help feeling angry that our friendship has disintegrated to this.
I know you’re busy, and maybe that statements a little selfish, but I worry, and want you happy and healthy.
I said it to a bunch of my friends but it felt like I lost a limb when you left, and the reverberations of the phantom pain left in your absence echo in my heart to my very core.
I couldn’t speak this candidly in person, cause you’d cry and I’d feel nearly as bad as I do now for making you cry.
I don’t think that I’ll get over any of this, but it is pain, and it will be a part of me for a long time.
