My heart hurts again. I miss you. I miss getting a text with a heart on it and giving it a heart back. It tears me up inside to not be able to reach out to you during the day. There is silence where you once were and it weighs on my chest. Dark, heavy silence.

I’m coming to realize that your abrupt absence is traumatic. I feel abandoned by you. I am not trying to say this in an accusatory, finger-pointing way. I just feel like your walked away from our friendship. We shared so much of our lives with one another. You were my closest friend.

I understand that things look different from where you stand and that everyone is sad. I am so lonely in my sadness. And confused. You have always been so sweet to me. But your silence feels so cold.

You referred to this blog and my Marco Polos as outlets for me, as if they are flood reservoirs for my over abundance of feelings. Like they’re something I do to blow off a bit of steam or take the edge off. Like they’re therapy.

But wouldn’t describe these ways I express myself as outlets. Rather, these are the ways I know to empower myself and engage with the circumstances of you and me.

I am not processing my feelings as if they’re raw materials on the conveyor belt at the Rational Factory. I’m not trying to turn them into something better, more useful, or more cohesive. I’m just being responsible for them. I am true to myself and my wants and desires. I pursue what I dream about because that is what it means to act with self respect.

So, here I am. I am having a deep, visceral reaction to the fact that you have turned your back on our extremely deep, meaningful connection and that you did so with such force. It was done so quickly and unexpectedly that it feels violent on my heart, in my mind, and even in my body. The fact that no one had treated me as sweetly as you did up until the moment you disappeared makes it more jarring.