A Breakup

Some feelings are hard to name, 

A stillness we don’t understand.

These words come from such a space—

Of learning, losing, and making peace too.

I never experienced a romantic breakup—no endless crying into pillows, no sudden silences, no wondering where it all went wrong. I thought I’d somehow skipped the pain that most people talk about.

But nothing prepared me for the heartbreak that came, ....Not from a man, but from a friend.

I’m generally a talkative person—the kind who always has a story, a thought, a smile to share. But with her, I was different. I was the listener. The patient, quiet presence in the room. I was like a diary to her, a safe space where she could pour her heart out without judgment. I held her secrets, her fears, her grief. And I did it gladly.

Over the years I stood by her in her darkest times, that’s what friendship meant to me—being there when it isn’t convenient. And then, like a storm in the middle of calm, everything destroyed and vanished. A cold, insensitive silence has replaced what once was of warmth and laughter.

I read and re-read our last messages, trying to find clues. What did I miss? Where did I go wrong? That’s when the bitter truth found its way to me: this was never really a friendship. It was probably an acquisition—a bond maintained as long as there was need. And when the need died, so did the connection.

So this is how a breakup feels like.. My first true breakup—not with a man, but with someone I had loved like family.

The ache is unfamiliar. It feels like losing a part of myself. Like a song that's ended mid-verse. Probably I won’t miss her ---I will miss us. I will miss the version of me that existed only in her presence.

 I will surely take some time to let this experience settle. And one day, I’ll look back and be thankful. Thankful for what she taught me. Thankful that I know now what real friendship should never feel like.

Sharon.