By Illya
No one truly warns you of the ferocity of a platonic breakup. The crying till your head hurts, the screaming at unheard walls, or the ringing inside your skull. No one warns you of the empty feeling in your chest. Or wishing you could just pick up your cell phone and call them. Maybe just one more time. Just to see if they’re in as much pain as you are.
How do I explain to my friends that I miss him without sounding like some sad sap? It’s not like we were together, he was just my best friend. But damn, do I miss him. I miss the late-night calls because they found the perfect person (for the nth time that week), and the planning for a bajillion outings we know damn well we don’t have time to execute. I miss seeing him every week at work, bussing tables and speed-running 20 drinks in under 20 minutes.
He was more than just a friend though. He was my soulmate. In all the ways that mattered. Not in the way that your heart could ever yearn for a lover. In the way that my nights were always filled with his voice through the phone. In the way I knew exactly what he was thinking without even having to look up from my daily Wordle game. In the way that we were not bound by desire or blood, but we knew at the end of the day we’d find each other.
I know that in a perfect world, we would have just talked through our disagreement and forgiven each other. Perhaps become even closer than we were before. But I’ve been scalded too many times to believe in this optimistic alternate universe. Not with the fact that he sneers when his friends mention my name. Not with the fact that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t check his social media to see how he’s been doing.
I know that we’ll never be okay again. Not in the way we used to be. Not in the soulmates-but-not-really kind of way. I know we’ll probably never even see each other again. But I still hope each day that he has eaten. And showered. And is thriving through life. I’ll still cheer for him. I’ll always want the very best for him. Even if it’s on the sidelines.
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