A Letter To My Estranged Best Friend | The Odyssey Online
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A Letter To My Estranged Best Friend

Because I'm better at writing about feelings than talking about them.

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A Letter To My Estranged Best Friend
Odyssey

My hands are starting to shake as I begin to write this. Never did I think I would have to imagine my world without you, but these past few months have made me realize that I might have to.

We used to stay up all night and talk about where we’d be in a year, five years or 10. We never thought we’d be here. Here being at the line of friendship and nothingness. We seem to toe the line every day. My parents ask me about you and I never know what to say, because I don’t know what to say.

“How are her classes?”

“Fine, I think.”

“What is her major again?”

“It’s a long title, I don’t know exactly…”

“What does she want to do with it?”

“I don’t know.”

I. Don’t. Know. Someone I should know better than myself, and I don’t know. Someone I talk to every day, and I don’t know. The person who was my backbone when I was weak, crutch when I was tired, and I don’t know.

We talk every day, but we say very little.

“Hey! How was your day?”

“Oh, it was a day, hby?”

“Same haha”

Every day we become more and more ourselves. And each day, it seems, we become less and less each other’s. We sit in silence because after all these years there’s not much left to say. Or maybe there’s a lot to say, we just don’t want to say it. We carry on like nothing is wrong, that we’re just “stressed” or “tired” or it’s “just one of those days”.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

So, after these past months, I have thought long and hard about what I want to say. About what I feel needs to be said. And I hope I picked the right ones.

I’m not naïve, I know friendships are like relationships; they all don’t last. But I swear to God, I would’ve thought ours would. We aren’t the same people we were when we first met, nor is our friendship as young. But we grew together, and so did our friendship.

I sit here and look at these last months and I don’t even recognize our friendship. I’m not sure what it has turned into. I feel like we walk on eggshells around each other; afraid of saying something, anything, that will start a fight. A fight that maybe we need to have to be OK.

It feels weird to be alone together. It feels like there’s so much left unsaid, so I’m trying to bridge the gap. Because I’ll be damned if we fall out over something as stupid as words unsaid.

If you want to fight, let’s fight. Let’s scream until our voices are raw. Let’s scream until our faces are red. Let’s scream until we’ve said everything we need to say. Let’s scream until we realize our friendship is greater than any fight that we can have. Let’s scream until we work things out.

If you want to be left alone, tell me so. Don’t freeze me out. Even if you do, I’ve brought my parka and am willing to wait out the snowstorm until you’re ready to talk.

I don’t know if these last months have been this way because we’ve been fighting our own separate wars, but I’m ready to talk when you are.

I’m ready to scream it out when you are.

I’m ready to hug it out when you are.

I’m ready to work things out, if you are.

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