About losing friends.
“We all lose friends, we lose them in death, in distance, over time, and over other subjects.”
Our 20s are a time to explore, to connect, and to begin understanding who we are. Often, that journey is shaped by the people around us — our friends. And more often than not, the way we meet them is completely unexpected.
We all have friends. We spent twelve years in school, then another four or five in university, surrounded by people who, in one way or another, became part of our story.
Some were there at your lowest, some made you laugh when you needed it most. Maybe you bonded over shared hobbies, inside jokes, or even gossiping about the same person. You just clicked and understood each other without trying. And over time, those little moments wove themselves into something meaningful.
And then, somehow… it become first and even You just stopped talking…
I had a friend for eight years, someone I truly believed would be in my life forever. We used to dream out loud about living next door to each other, raising our families side by side, and growing old together with stories to tell.
But then, one day, he decided he no longer wanted that.
No more daily conversations. No more spontaneous hangouts. Just… silence. That was it.
It broke my heart. The one person I thought I’d always have by my side was suddenly gone. And that’s a hard pill to swallow. I felt hurt, angry, and honestly, just confused. What did I do so wrong?
After a while, I finally confronted him and asked what happened to our friendship. His explanation felt like a slap in the face. He told me I was self-absorbed and that he was tired of it. Now, in my defense, everyone can be a little self-absorbed at times. But for the most part, I genuinely believe I was a good friend. I showed up, I cared, and I would’ve done anything within reason for him.
Truthfully, he just found people he felt were better, and saying I was the problem was the easiest way to let go.
Losing someone doesn’t always mean you’ve stopped talking.
Sometimes, losing means realizing that
the path you once walked together has slowly changed over time.
*)not all at once, but little by little, day by day, without even noticing.
And this is another story of it, when you live far away from your closest friends, you start to feel the difference. The conversations become less frequent, and the space to talk about yourself starts to shrink. And before you know it, you’ve missed the updates, the things they’re chasing now, the shifts in their priorities.
I remember last year, we had this shared dream of traveling together. It meant a lot to me, I’ve always loved traveling, and planning those moments with her felt like holding onto something special. But somewhere along the way, things began to change. She started pulling back. Not because she was being mean or distant on purpose, but because her idea of happiness began to look different from what we had once imagined together.
As we grow older, and the years start adding up, there’s a kind of pressure and the expectation to find someone, to settle down, to build a life. And that’s when it hit me the hardest: I wasn’t the person she turned to first anymore.
Our chats used to be about “us” — about memories, silly dreams, and life updates. But now, they’re filled with stories about her relationship, her worries, her questions about love, and even requests for me to help match her with someone else.
At first, it stung. Deeply. Because I’ve always valued my closest friends more than anything. They were my safe place. And now, I’m facing a reality where that connection, at least the way I knew it, doesn’t feel mutual anymore.
The truth is, none of us is wrong in this situation. That’s just how life unfolds sometimes in ways we don’t always expect, and often without anyone to blame. There’s no villain in this story, no one playing the victim. It hurts, yes, but that doesn’t make it bad. It’s just… part of growing up.
Day by day, I’m learning to sit with the reality that people will come and go, no matter how tightly you hold onto them. And as painful as it can be, I know I can’t control how others see me, how they choose to show up, or when they decide to step back.
This is just one story, one of many that I’ve had to let go of people I once thought would stay forever. Losing friends is new to me. It never gets easier, but I’m learning to carry it with more grace each time.
The moral of the story is this:
“Life goes on, even after you drift apart from someone you once couldn’t imagine living without. And yes, it hurts, but it’s part of growing.”
People change. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not.
But they change. And so do you. You’re not the same person you were years ago, so why expect others to stay the same? Sometimes, you simply grow in different directions. Your paths diverge, and you have to find your way forward. And that’s okay. Truly, it’s all RIGHT.
There’s nothing I can do to stop someone from unfriending me. And I’ll admit, there’s a part of me that feels jealous, even hurt, by how easily some people can let me go without a hint of remorse.
But I’m learning that
Breakups are okay. Losing friends is okay. Moving on is okay. Healing is okay. Being alone is okay .Saying NO is okay.
What’s not okay is staying in a place—or in someone’s life—where you don’t feel happy, valued, loved, or appreciated.
Shift your focus. Pour your energy into things that help you grow: school, work, and your passions. Friendships, like romantic relationships, have a way of falling into place when you least expect it.
You might even meet some of your best friends in the most unexpected places. But what’s even more powerful is this: through these experiences, you begin to recognize the lessons they carry. And in doing so, you may just discover the most incredible soul of all.
Because sometimes, the journey leads you back to yourself. And in that moment, you realize that you, your one, whole, beautiful self, have been your best friend all along.