Friendship
There was a time when their laughter echoed effortlessly, filling the spaces between them like an unspoken promise. Their friendship, built over a decade, had once been unbreakable, surviving countless changes, distances, and silences that never felt uncomfortable. They had grown together, sharing secrets, dreams, and fears that only they understood. It seemed like nothing could change what they had—time and distance felt powerless against their bond. Their friendship was like a well-worn book, each chapter carefully written through shared experiences and unwavering trust.
Back then, words weren’t always needed. A glance was enough to communicate understanding, and even in the quiet moments, there was a sense of belonging. They knew each other’s habits, favorite songs, and the exact way their moods shifted. Every memory they created felt like a piece of something permanent. They could predict each other's thoughts before they were even spoken, finishing sentences and laughing before the joke was told. Their friendship was a sanctuary, a safe place where they could simply be themselves.
But then, everything changed when one of them had to change schools. At first, they promised to stay the same, to keep in touch no matter what. And for a while, they did. Late-night conversations stretched across miles, filled with stories of new experiences and the reassurance that nothing would change. But slowly, the distance grew beyond the physical. Conversations that once flowed with ease now felt forced, filled with pauses where words once overflowed. The messages that had once been filled with excitement turned into short, polite exchanges, mere shadows of what they once were. The comfort of their silence had turned into an unsettling distance, a space neither of them knew how to bridge. They still spoke, still smiled, still met each other's eyes—but something was missing. It was as if the foundation they had built was slowly crumbling, not with a dramatic break, but with an unnoticeable erosion, wearing away piece by piece until it was no longer the same.
At first, they tried to fight it. They made plans that never came to life, sent messages that remained unanswered for too long. It wasn’t that they didn’t care—it was that life had begun pulling them in different directions. New friendships formed, new responsibilities took hold, and the effortless connection they once had started requiring effort. And yet, neither of them could admit that things were different. The realization was neither sudden nor sharp, but a quiet acceptance that things were no longer the same. And perhaps that was the most painful part—not a dramatic ending, not a fight or betrayal, but a gradual drift apart, like leaves carried by the wind.
Perhaps it was time, or maybe they had simply outgrown the version of themselves that had once fit together so perfectly. But even in that realization, there was gratitude—for the years that had shaped them, for the memories that would never fade, and for a friendship that, even if changed, had once been real. Because some friendships, even when they fade, leave behind a mark so deep that they never truly disappear. They exist in the spaces between moments, in the echoes of laughter, and in the quiet understanding that at one point in time, they meant everything to each other...
by Yasmina.
