I stared at my phone in shock. You could imagine, after everything our friendship had been through, that she couldn’t be serious. But I could only feel my throat tighten and my eyes squeeze shut in denial. I dropped my phone in the shower caddy and soaked myself in the burning hot shower, not sure if it was the water or the sobs that washed over me.

I had told her so much, we had confided in everything. We were inseparable for so long — and now? Now what? What was I going to do? I felt odd without her, lost in a big world.

It was only a few months later that I started to feel my bones regain their structure from the flimsiness I had felt before. It was only later I realized that I should be thankful for what we had.

When I had met her, I felt an instant connection, something between us that was so similar it made me glow with excitement. Maybe I felt too much, was too emotional for the both of us, but she was like my twin. When a boy hurt me so much that I questioned everything about myself, she stood by me valiantly. When other friends fought with her, when she would call me in tears, I came running for her. When she would call me just to talk about her night, I listened with mild sarcasm and teasing.

I hated to see her sad or upset. And when our first rough fight came along, when I was so sad, so angry and upset with her, I caved in when I saw her tears. Seeing her hurt, out of anybody, was traumatizing. I loved her. She was my absolute best friend. See, I forgave every person like how I breathed the air. It was easy, simple, and most of all, not messy.

But when a new problem arose, when the thought of losing her as my friend, came to mind, I flipped shit. I called her out. She called me out. We had a war with text. But we were as silent as ever in person, staying away from each other as much as possible. It was, probably, one of the more depressing few weeks of my life. I felt the barrier between us growing rapidly, and yet, no word from her.

So when I finally reached her, when I received the final say on our friendship, I felt myself cave in like I had when she had cried in front of me. This time, it was different. I caved into myself, afraid that if I came up for air, I would be hit with the pain from all of our memories.

Maybe it didn’t mean the same to her, maybe I was just another friend, but I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t think of her as my best friend. We knew when we were pissing each other off, we knew when to stay away, we knew how to be best friends. I couldn’t imagine life without her.

There are still days that I search through my phone for an old picture only to skim through photos of us. And all I see are the hugs and laughs we had. The twinge in my heart reminds me of another time in my life. Will we ever be the same? No. And I’m not counting on it.

But of all the things I’ve learned from losing her, I’ve figured out that it’s better to breathe and to move on. To think that everyone will be your friend is unrealistic. Some people will never see the good in you, they will never get what makes you so special. They won’t understand who you are. And that’s okay. There are seven billion people in this world. And shit happens sometimes.

What’s done is done, and I wish I could say that I shouldn’t have been as passionate about my stance, that I had caved like I had before, but it wasn’t my choice to end the friendship. And maybe, maybe I wasn’t meant to be friends with her forever.

As heartbroken as I am, as much as I want to be mad, I can only feel a sad nostalgic-ness for our time together. I always wish her all the best, always cheer her on, always hope she is doing well because at one point, we were best friends.

And I loved her. That, I will never regret.

So, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope life’s treating you well. And maybe one day, I’ll be able to reach my arms across the barrier we’ve created. Maybe one day I’ll hug you the way we did when it was us against the world.