I get it. You just graduated and you're ready to move on with your life. I'm seriously so proud of you that you get to go live your dreams and be where you have always wanted to end up.

I'm so sorry that our friendship didn't work out. But that doesn't stop me from wondering why you didn't reach out to me one last time before you left for good, knowing that we most likely won't ever see each other again.

I remember the first day I met you. For someone with anxiety, talking to you, a complete stranger, was a huge thing for me. But you were so easy to talk to. We bonded over our anxieties and our love for TV shows and movies. We bonded over not knowing anyone else and feeling super awkward.

But the thing that I remember most about the day that we met was a comment someone made to us. When she saw how we talked and acted with each other, she asked if we had known each other for a long time.

When we told her we had literally met that same morning, she was shocked, saying that she knew we were going to be great friends.

And she wasn't wrong, for the most part. You were the first person who seemed to truly accept me.

You supported me through whatever, and you supported my need to escape into fictional worlds and to be lazy when the world became too much to handle.

But somewhere along the line, things went wrong. I don't know what I did wrong. Maybe I let you in a little too much. I exposed all of my flaws and insecurities. And you used them against me.

You made me feel the way about myself that you had spent months telling me wasn't true. You told me everything about myself that I needed to change, and then called it "constructive criticism". All because you didn't get what you wanted.

From that moment on, though we were still friends for another year after that, I never felt the same.

I no longer felt the comfort of your support. I could only think of how you criticized me, on stuff that you knew I was trying to work on but was struggling with. How was I supposed to change if in that one day I lost all the support that I so desperately believed that I needed?

And then came me moving away. You promised me that we wouldn't fall apart. I told you I was being realistic and that we would probably grow apart, not by choice, but just because of the distance and how different our lives would be.

And I was right. We grew further and further away from each other. During that time, I grew as a person. Maybe you did, too, I wouldn't know. I just know that you had a falling out with our other best friends, the ones that made us a group of four.

And I couldn't see how I could be your friend with you not speaking to them. I wouldn't be able to handle it, knowing that bond that we all once had was gone forever. The puzzle was broken.

So when I saw the pictures of your graduation last weekend, I didn't know how to feel. I was happy for you, you get to go live your dream. The other part of me wonders why, on your end, we stopped talking.

I know mine, but you just faded away on your end. You never answered the last Snapchat. You never texted back. Did you have a reason?

Part of me wants to know that reason. Was I easily replaced? Did I ever mean anything to you, or was I just an easy target for a friend because I was desperate and alone? Are you as conflicted about us drifting apart as I am?

These are questions I will most likely never get the answers to. And the logical part of me knows that that's okay, it's better not to reach out, to leave things as they are. After all, this was probably inevitable.

From the bottom of my heart, I do wish the best for you. I hope you can live out your dreams and find the happiness that Missouri and your friends here couldn't give you. I just ask that you remember my letter. This, like that one, is full of things that I can never say. Instead, I remain silent, pretending that I'm okay.

And I will be. One day, I'll be able to look back on our friendship and the memories that we made with only nostalgia, remembering a good moment in time, instead of feeling guilty or like I should have done something to fix what was irrevocably broken.

So this is for you. And on one last note: I'm sorry. I'm not sorry for doing what I believe was best for me and my mental health by distancing myself from you. I'm sorry if I did something to make you never want to speak to me again. I'm sorry that it couldn't work out, that it just wasn't meant to last. I'm mostly sorry that I didn't tell you any of this, but when I last tried to, it didn't make a difference.

I'm grateful for the friendship that we had in the beginning, and the fond memories that we made during that time. I wish you the best and I hope you do have a happy life.