Ours was the one friendship I never expected to end so abruptly. The one friendship I thought I’d never drift away from. You were the one friend I could not imagine being out of my life. Our friendship made me grow, laugh, travel and dream. The kind of friendship one can leave where it is and pick up, effortlessly, a few months or a few years later. The one friendship others envied, and talked about. The one friendship that had so much unrealized potential. Or so I thought.
Then one day, life happened. Your words hurt me so deeply, I cried, I grieved, I suffered. Your words were so full of hate, your lines full of snide remarks, your tone dripping in contempt. Your deliberate intention to hurt me was the final straw.
Life continued. I moved to a new country, again. I met new people, again. I made new friends, again. But you were always in my thoughts. Although I never wished you ill, my sorrow morphed into anger. I never wanted to see you again.
Then one day, death happened and you contacted me. With kind words of condolences; with an apology for your past behavior. Was I happy? No. I was too surprised. I was grieving my brother’s death and you came back into my life, albeit from a distance, tentatively.
Our friendship was never a failed one and you were never a bad friend. I hope I wasn’t either. I’m sure I share some of the blame. But nothing justifies what you wrote years ago, nothing explains those words. I forgave you but have not forgotten. That friendship is dead. But maybe a new friendship between us could blossom again, one day.
Until then, I wish you well, my friend.