Part IV: The Silence Between the Lines
There’s this kind of silence that doesn’t come from the lack of words—it comes from the lack of meaning. The kind of silence that fills your chest even when messages are technically being sent back and forth. That’s what it’s been like with them lately. Cold, empty, performative. Like they’re just going through the motions so they won’t look like the bad guy. But honestly, I’d rather be ignored completely than feel this… half-alive, half-dead version of whatever’s left between us.
I’ve written so many things I’ll never send. Paragraphs sitting in my notes app. Messages typed out and deleted. Just thoughts I want to throw out into the universe, hoping someone hears them. Someone who isn’t them, I guess. Because I don’t trust them with my truth anymore. I don’t feel safe opening up to them now, not when they respond like they don’t want to be part of the conversation in the first place. That hurts more than being ignored. That makes me feel invisible in a way I didn’t know was possible.
I know people change. I know friendships don’t always stay the same. But I thought ours was different. I thought there was something unspoken holding it together. Now I see that I’ve just been holding it together by myself.
I still check my phone hoping they’ll say something real. Hoping maybe one day they’ll notice I’ve been quiet too. That I’ve stopped saying everything because I’ve realized I’m the only one still talking. But most days, I know that’s just a fantasy. They’ve moved on. And I’m still here, haunted by conversations we’ll never have again.
Maybe this is just how it ends. Not with a bang. Not with a goodbye. But with silence. And someone like me, writing into the void, trying to let go of a friendship that already let go of me.
–S