The hardest part of friendships isn't the fights or the betrayals. It's the things you never say. The words that stay trapped in your chest, because saying them feels too risky or too unnecessary or maybe because you fear the answer.
We had a lot of unsaid words. Words that could have made everything clearer, words that could have hurt, words that could have saved us. And somehow, we let them pile up quietly, building walls without noticing.
I remember sitting across from you one day, wanting to say something important, and then not saying it. I watched you smile at something small, and in that moment, the words felt heavy, too heavy to place between us. I swallowed them. I thought I could keep them for another day. That day never came.
You probably did the same thing. I could feel it in your pauses, in the way you avoided looking me in the eyes sometimes. There was distance in your tone, even when your face was close. A kind of hesitation that wasn't there before.
I think that's when I started realizing that friendship doesn't only die in fights. Sometimes it dies in the quiet moments where understanding fails to keep up with feelings. Where love and care exist, but communication does not.
I wanted to say: Imiss us. I miss the way we used to be.
But even that felt too simple. Too vulnerable. Too dangerous.
Instead, we kept talking. About little things. About normal things. About nothing at all. As if keeping the conversation alive could cover the gap that was widening beneath us.
And every time we avoided the real words, the gap grew just a little more.
I hated the silence, yet I contributed to it.
And maybe, so did you.
Friendships aren't perfect. They're messy, complicated, full of unsaid things that shape the way people drift apart. And we were no exception.
I don't blame us. I just wish we had spoken sooner.