Open letter to the friend you were

Hi, 

You have always told me how good I am with words. Nevertheless, some time ago, when we said goodbye to each other for the last time, I did not say a word. It was one of the few times in my life where I could not find the right thing to say. Anything to say, really. Because words are not enough to express the emotions I was feeling during that goodbye. There was rage, for sure. Fear. Relief. Sadness. And hope. 

I still smile when I think about how it started, and you know that I do not believe in coincidences, as much as you don’t, so I have always thought it was destiny. And maybe it was, but perhaps fate was not enough. I do not regret anything. Even after the horrible things you said about me and everything that happened, I do not regret any of our adventures, our late-night conversations, our dinners cooked together. How could I? My mind already knows that all of this is now in the past, but my heart sometimes still skips a beat when, while scrolling through Instagram, I see a meme only you would understand, and I am so tempted to send it to you; or when I go grocery shopping, and it seems so natural for me to buy double the amount of vegetables I need for the week because that is what we used to do.  

However, it is gone. All that’s left are memories fading away. I guess that’s life.  

You know, I am learning that you were right about one thing: change is the only constant in life. I used to react very badly to changes in my life because when things change, you do not know what to expect and how to handle it. And for a person who has three agendas and many to-do lists disseminated in my flat, change is scary. And I am not saying that change is not scary. I am learning that scary can be good. All the most critical decisions in our lives are accompanied by fear. Humans are afraid before getting married because they wonder if it is the right decision for their life. They are scared when they discover a pregnancy because they do not feel ready to be parents. I was terrified before coming to Aberdeen because I was leaving my home, my friends and family behind, and there was a blank page in front of me. But see, I realised that a blank page is just another way of calling endless possibilities for the future. You taught me that. I hope I taught you that being vulnerable does not make you weak, on the contrary, it makes you stronger than everyone else.  

That is why I am writing this letter. To prove to you that it is okay to show your heart to people sometimes. People are more comprehensive than you think they are.  

You used to say that we were growing together every single day. And we were. Yet, I was so naive, because I really thought you could change. Not for me, but with me. Now I see that you won’t. You don’t want to. And I see that all my sufferings because of you are not worthy anymore. Friendship should bring comfort, and support, and joy. And simply, you stopped bringing that into my life. You made me feel guilty about my mental health status, and you broke all the pacts we had made together. You devastated me. I will never allow anyone else to make me feel like I am not enough. Not anymore. In a way, you taught me how to be strong, and I tried to teach you how to be soft. You showed me the importance of relying only on myself, and I wanted to show you the beauty of sharing joy, pain, and love with people who are important to you and for whom you are important.  

Even if you are not by my side anymore, I will continue to grow. I owe it to myself.  

I hope I find my peace and you find yours. I hope one day, when you look back at all the people you’ve met in your life, you’ll remember me as the person you could always call at night when you were feeling lonely, and the person who would learn the words of the new song from your favourite singer as soon as it comes out and then sing it with you from the top of their lungs, just to see you smile. And I hope you will regret every single thing you did to let our friendship end. 

Now, goodbye. 

Emma 

• friendship breakups
• letter
• personal
• student