We were so close. You showed me what having best friends was about. I would have done anything for you. We joked, we laughed, we danced, and we cried together. We talked about saving the world and being in each others' weddings. The two of you were who I ran to during the roughest times; you knew the exact right things to say.

That all changed our final semester.

It started off like any other semester. We were close and did everything we used to do. Then, I started to notice small changes. We would make plans, but the two of you were always together.

I was slowly becoming a third wheel.

I shook it off and remained quiet. We were busy and on different schedules. Then, I grew to hate Facebook. I grew to hate Snapchat. I didn't want to feel that pit in my stomach every time I saw the two of you together. I'd see snaps or statuses about the two of you getting ready to go out, even when the three of us had plans. I'd sit and replay the last few days. Maybe I did something that bothered you? I replayed every text, every word we said or didn't say to each other. Then I'd shake my head and tell myself I was just overreacting. That's what I always do. I always jump to the worst possible scenario.

It wasn't until I had a complete break down in class that I noticed something. The two of you didn't look at me. Your friend was hurting, vulnerable and feeling broken. All I wanted was for help to pick up my pieces. When our professor asked what we did for self-care, I tried to think and couldn't come up with a single thing I did for myself. I was the last one to speak and when I opened my mouth, I began sobbing. I felt so sorry for myself that I wasn't giving myself the care I needed. Maybe it was because graduation was around the corner and it meant I had to move back home. But deep down, I knew why I was breaking. I missed the how close we were. I wanted to talk to the two of you about it but my anxiety froze me.

I didn't want to face rejection.
I didn't want to face confrontation.
I didn't want to be weak.

I was paralyzed.

After my breakdown, peers who I weren't close to gave me comfort while the two of you sat back. Then I realized something: I wanted the two of you to notice how different I had been. We had been taught to see when someone is acting differently. Even our professor, who had me stay after class, told me she noticed I changed. We didn't sit next to each other anymore. I didn't volunteer in class anymore. I barely made eye contact and I rarely smiled. I was distant and just not myself. I hated what my anxiety had done to me.

It was after that day that I realized something, something I wish I had realized earlier. I had friends in my corner. I had friends who tried to get me out of my house. Friends who invited me over, friends who made dinner plans, went to wine tastings and drove up mountains to get away from our problems. As much as I wanted the two of you to notice how much I was hurting, I finally told myself to let people in my life who wanted to stay and support me and let go of those who left, no matter how hard it was.

To the friends I lost, I still think of the times we had together. Facebook memories come up and I fondly remember our good times we had. Maybe someday, we'll see each other and smile. You may have removed me from your friends list or you remain but only as a shadow over my timeline, but either way, I wish the best for you.

To the friends gave me support, helped me work through my anxiety and gave me such beautiful memories, I can't thank you enough. You still give me courage to tackle my anxieties and give me strength to be an amazing social worker. I'm forever grateful that I have you in my life.