I HOPE THIS FINDS YOU WELL...

I’ve had friendships end before. Someone moved or went off to college; new interests and therefore new crowds were gained; marriage; children; all the typical reasons people can grow apart. Many of those people were not particularly close friends, they were friends of convenience or mutual acquaintance. When those relationships ended, it felt natural. As if we were two leaves lazily floating in a pond, and then one day, the current changed - one of us drifted quietly towards the shore and the other swept further out into the deep. Sometimes I might think about them and wonder what they are up to. I might do a deep dive on social media to check their current whereabouts, or if I'm feeling especially invested and sentimental, decide to send a DM or text “just to say hello.” But there are no hard feelings, no major love lost, you just grew apart. C'est la vie.

Recently, a close friendship ended in a way that was shocking and unexpected. I think about calling them and realize I can’t. I think about calling them and realize I can’t—because they ghosted me. As in, not only blocked me from finding their social media accounts, but everyone else I am close with too. Never wanting to be found again. Ghosted. Being dumped by a close friend is desolating, as bad as any breakup I’ve had with past intimate partners. And really, what isn’t a close friend if not an intimate partner? You may not be sexually intimate, but in every other aspect of your lives, you are. I’m talking about those especially close friends with whom you share your deepest feelings, friends who hold your hand through the most intense moments, friends that stand by you when you’re hurting, friends with whom you’ve laughed the deepest belly laughs in the universe. That was this friend.

We were so close that up until the day of the actual ghosting, my former friend was on their way to visit and stay over at my house. I had plans to drive them to the airport the following morning to catch their flight back to their home state. We texted each other that day around 8 AM. It wasn’t about the day’s travel plans but about none other than Timothée Chalamet. I mean why wouldn’t it be? It was the day after the Met Gala and photos of him in his stylish attire were circulating the internet. I texted my friend a picture of TC, without any words, as we did, because we had that unspoken friendship language where you can just text an image or a meme and it holds millions of inside jokes and hours of conversations within that one pic. We exchanged some quips and emojis. They were supposed to arrive at my house between 1:30 to 2:00 PM. I had arranged to finish my contract work early that day so we would have some quality hang time to catch up before picking up my toddler from daycare. We hadn’t seen each other in two years, partly because of the pandemic, partly because they live halfway across the country. I was giddy and excited about their arrival. Yearning for a bear hug and a laugh after the isolation of the past months.

***

At the beginning of the pandemic, when my son was only months old and I was on maternity leave, watching the world crumble around me, we checked in on each other. We spoke every day, either via phone or text. I would go for walks, aimlessly meandering around my neighborhood for as long as my newborn son was asleep, sometimes up to three hours at a time (the soles of my shoes were nearly worn through by the end of 2020). The industry we both worked in (the arts) was one of the first to shut down amid the lockdowns, and we shared our anxieties about the future. I wondered if I would have a job to go back to when my maternity leave was up (I didn’t). We watched the protests and riots erupt across the country in reaction to the murder of George Floyd and talked each other through the pain of the time (or cried). We conferenced in horror at whatever latest atrocity the president was committing (so fucking many). I would walk and we would talk…and vent, and sob, and yell, and laugh, and even be silent together, across our AirPods, across different states with contrary political lines (blue v. red). My friend was my greatest pandemic lifeline. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without them during that year.

As we struggled to find our footing and ultimately began to accept that this pandemic reality was our “new normal” for the unforeseeable future, our talks became slightly less frequent, but we still checked in regularly, if not daily, weekly. They were navigating job transitions and issues with their partner. I was navigating the loneliness of unexpectedly becoming a stay-at-home mom, something I had never aspired to be. We were both navigating the loss of our sense of self in the midst of major and jarring life transitions.

We met in graduate school over a decade ago and bonded instantly. The first day we met, it was a clear blue sunny day, and we were laying outside on a grassy hill overlooking Puget Sound. It was in between sessions at our first MFA retreat, and I recall we both complimented each other’s sunglasses. We got each other through grad school, or actually, more like carried each other through it. I was dealing with an undiagnosed chronic illness which would later turn out to be endometriosis. I was suffering from chronic pain and crippling fatigue while working full-time during the day at the university to help pay for my full-time grad school classes in the evenings. They were there while both of my stepparents battled life-threatening cancer and my anxiety spiraled out of control. We sat next to each other in every class. We rolled our eyes at the same blowhards, the ones who could never pass up the chance to hear themselves speak. We passed notes and worked on projects together. After two very long years, we fucking graduated(!) and it was glorious. We drank champagne.

I was one of the first people they came out to not long after school ended. I was there when they grappled with the heartbreak of having a family member who was not understanding. We talked about how to pick up dates and joked about the pros and cons of male vs female partners. They celebrated holidays with my family when theirs were in another state. We went to concerts - SO many concerts - our love for music and art, similar in taste and insatiableness. They had already moved back to their home state when their father died a few years later. I remember hanging up the phone after the news and crying. I was there, if only from afar. I sent cards and little gifts just to say I was thinking of them. They would come into town to visit, and we would take weekend getaways. We wine-toured and skinny-dipped for my bachelorette party. They were at my wedding. We laughed and danced and cried together there too. We shared our deepest secrets, our biggest regrets, our loves, our scariest fears, and our greatest dreams. We encouraged each other’s creative endeavors, always believing in the talent of the other, each other’s most enthusiastic cheerleaders.

***

The day they were supposed to arrive, they didn’t show up at my house at the time they said they would. I hadn’t heard from them since the 8 AM Timothée Chalamet text. I knew they were with another friend and had been traveling back from Oregon. As time ticked by, I started to get nervous. Being prone to worry, my mind raced through all the possible worst-case scenarios - train delay, car accident, medical emergency. I still have the text chain and refer to it often, in the hopes that I might find any clue as to what exactly I did wrong for this friend to so quickly decide we weren’t going to be friends anymore.

2:21 PM – You okay? Just checking in.

I have to pick L (my son) up in about half an hour just head’s up. It’s only 5 mins away.

When they didn’t show, I went to pick up my son and left a note on the front door and a key under the mat in case they arrived while I was out.

4:09 PM – Getting worried 😟

6:27 PM – Dude seriously if you get this please just check in. If you’re out doing something or need time alone or whatever that’s fine, just keep me updated because otherwise, I am about to start calling hospitals for real. 💓

I also called and left voicemails on their phone in between these texts. Sometime after the 6:27 text, I finally receive a long-winded and seemingly nonchalant reply. Most of it made absolutely no sense to me. Some of the details were worrying. The timeline they provided compared to what they said they were doing and where they were didn’t add up. I had frantically called around to other mutual friends to see if anyone had seen them in the 5 hours between their projected arrival and the time I got a text response. I got a hold of two people. One friend said they had gone for a walk about noon and then they had left them to head to my house. The other friend said that they saw them at 3 PM because they left their debit card at their apartment. At no point during this timeframe did I receive a call or text from my missing friend, not even a “running late” text or an Oprah GIF (our fave). Nothing.

Once I finally reached them, got their text relating where they were, and told them how worried I’d been, I received a response that told me "not to worry about it and that they’d take care of it." They were supposed to stay the night at my house. I was supposed to give them a ride to the airport. It was strange. I told them again how concerned I’d been and that I was glad they were okay and that I hoped they got home okay. Our final texts to each other:

6:40 PM – Friend: Thank you for your concern

6:48 PM – Me: I hope you feel better 💓

We haven’t spoken since. It’s been six months. My son just turned two. I was left reeling at what had played out. My friend didn’t contact me when they got home. In the days following that strange confrontation, I was still upset at being blown off and I didn’t call to check in like I normally would have. The text exchange left the impression that my contact wasn't welcomed. Is that where I went wrong? I waited, expecting some kind of sheepish apology. I felt like I had been treated like I was an absolute asshole for being concerned when they hadn’t shown up that day. And they seemed mad that I had called around to our other friends looking for them. I could feel the energy through the texts. You can do that when you know someone well. After not hearing anything for a few weeks, I contacted the two other friends who had been with them that fateful day to see if they had heard from them and if they were okay. One hadn’t. The one who had, gave me a strange response, saying they had heard from them and everything was fine. As if they knew I was searching for more answers and were purposely being vague. As if they knew something I didn’t, that I had crossed some unwritten friendship line. As if they knew this person no longer wished to be my friend.

We didn’t call each other over the holidays. I didn’t call on their birthday. Today, I looked at my Instagram account and went in search of their page because I hadn’t seen a post in a while. I’d seen them “liking” other people’s posts because we follow a lot of the same accounts. Ugh. Social media. Seeing that had given me some comfort - that at least I knew they were alive and seemingly okay - while simultaneously getting angry that I still hadn’t heard anything from them. When I searched for their username, I got that telling Instagram message "User Not Found." Did they delete their account? I searched the account name on Google and there it was, all lit up and bright with posts and likes and friends. They blocked me. They blocked my account entirely. What in the fuck happened?

The day they didn’t show up, after I got the strange texts and the situation was left unresolved, hanging in the air like one of those sad, singular runaway birthday balloons, I called another friend in tears. I had been so worried. I am still worried. I was baffled. I am baffled still. If I had called in the days and weeks after the incident, would they have even answered? Finding out I had been 'blocked' was, to me, the nail in the coffin of our friendship. It's especially shitty knowing that I likely won't get a resolution, or any kind of explanation for what happened that day (I'm not one for cliffhangers).

I realize that over the past six months, I have been slogging my way through the various stages of grief. I don’t think I’ve quite hit “acceptance” yet. It’s Valentine’s Day and someone I loved dearly has erased me from their life. They weren't a lover, a boyfriend, or a partner. But sometimes they were more than any of those things. And it stings. I feel manipulated, abandoned, rejected; I feel utterly confused. But most of all, I just feel heartbroken. Losing someone you profoundly care for is indescribably difficult. I guess I always knew that. But today it's settling in.

I’ve found myself feeling disoriented, somber, outraged, lost, and lonely.

I hope this letter finds you well.