An Open Letter To Lost Friend

Ever lost a friend? The ache is indescribable and stings. No fancy words here, just real talk about the hurt, the questions, and that weird empty feeling. Just an open letter exploring the emotions when a friend turns into a stranger. Because, seriously, it sucks. Share your thoughts in the comments.

Dear you,

I hope this letter finds its way to you, carrying echoes of sentiments that have lingered in the corridors of my heart and it's about time I let them out.

There's an unspoken ache, unasked questions, and a plethora of emotions that have found solace in the written word.

Why did it have to be this way? Everything reminds me of you every day. Every time I try to put it all behind me, it comes crashing down. I meet new people, yet all I see is how they are not you or how they are you. Your absence is an unwelcome judgment that society passes on to me and it weighs heavily on the fabric of my existence.

I see glimpses of you in the kindness of strangers and the flaws of those around me. Someone does something nice, and I remember you. Someone does something bad, again it's you. Your laughter echoes in every smile I encounter, and I find myself thinking of the jokes that would make you laugh out loud.

I hate that your absence becomes unbearable when I'm sad about something. I hate that when I'm happy something reminds me of you. It feels like I'm cheating on the present with memories of the past. It's a perpetual state of mourning, a yearning for what once was.

I hate what I became around you, or perhaps, I loved who I was. Remember how I used to be around you? No filters, just me being weird, sometimes hateful, needy, independent the whole package. If I wanted to munch on something, you'd be the first to know. There were no hidden layers; it was just me.

You were the first person who made me feel that maybe, after all, it was nice to have someone who genuinely cared about me. I was your priority, your top call no matter what the question was. Momo or golgappe? You'd call and ask me without a second thought. I was your answer to all questions. Each one of them.

But then, there were lies, and I was left wondering why I was chosen to bear something like this. It may not be a big deal, but the hurt lingers. Why did you lie? Why me? Why did it have to be this way?

What hurts more is the uncertainty, the possibility that you might not think of me the way I do of you. Every other day, I wish it was different. I hope you're just a phone call away, ready to reassure me that everything will be fine and that I'll make it. But reality is harsh, and your absence remains a constant ache.

You made me a part of me that I can't kill. I hate that she's still sitting there, hoping that it might be a nightmare and you'll be back with your tickling smile, assuring me that I'm fine.

As I pen down these words, I realize it's a release, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap left by your absence. Maybe you'll never read this, maybe you will, but in either case, it's a testament to the impact you had on my life.

I don’t wish to speak to you anymore but wish you peace and clarity on your journey.

Lovingly,

Rewa