The one who owes me an apology
We were coworkers. We got along really well, until we did not. And they left no explanation behind, just heartbreak.
We could talk about anything — from politics and fashion to gin and sustainability. From feminism to mental health and heartbreak to culture. We were the kind of friends who would run errands together and talk until 4 AM.
Inherently, we were different people and had different upbringings but that didn’t matter. Somehow we got along and I felt heard. They were a great listener, the kind that would pay attention to your long winded stories and make sense out of them. Eventually, I let my walls down. Walls I had built over a long time. I could begin to trust them with my fears, show them the darkness and the light, and the walls started to come down.
I had a friendship people would envy. Until I didn’t.
It’s been months and I still don’t know why. I have put together a somewhat coherent explanation in my mind, to give myself some peace, but it has not accomplished much. It felt as if the friendship only meant something to me, and for them it was too easy to let go.
Closure is a weird thing — it is such a small part of a breakup but can completely change how you see it. It’s probably why its absence made me feel so lost.
How can you go from being the best of friends to pretending the other does not exist? We walk by each other in the corridor at work, have lunch at the communal tables with a group of coworkers and simply look through each other, as if there’s nothing there. And I still look back when you walk away, hoping to find an explanation.
I still miss you but I hope you never see this because I couldn’t bear to be vulnerable in front of you ever again.
