grief
Just to clarify, this isn’t about death. There is no death trigger warning, this is just about the end of, what was, a very important friendship to me.
I’m no longer friends with my best friend anymore.
I haven’t been in months, honestly. It was kind of obvious how things were going, as per my last blog post, but there was a big, big part of me who believed that maybe things would get better. That maybe this was just a rough patch we were going through. We’ve gone through a lot, and I honestly didn’t think that would be the end of it.
I was the one who messaged them first to break it off. This was probably one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever had to do.
When I did, I didn’t go about it just myself, I contacted my therapist about it. The insecurity of our friendship, the fact that we didn’t really connect as much as we used to, and the fact that being with them made me feel like I was worth nothing to them anymore were big contributors. It honestly had been doing me more harm than good, even though I was hoping for otherwise. Though at this point, I was still sure, if even somewhat, we could salvage our friendship.
When I got to talk to him, I had become sure I couldn’t have them in my life.
I’m not sure if I should even go in depth about our friendship at all, or how to even go about it. I wrote a little about them in my last blog post but they were so, so much more. I had just been realizing at this point, while talking to my therapist, how unfit they were in my life. It was just… it was so obvious we had different ideas for what we wanted in life. They wanted a louder life, one with parties and drugs and alcohol while I wanted a quieter one, without any of that. Hearing about their escapades, them getting cross-faded, them drinking to avoid their feelings freaked me out so bad. It didn’t help that they, just like me, were depressed. We both actively dealt with depression. I was fucking terrified of anything happening to them. Alcoholism runs in their family, they’re impulsive and dealt with active suicidal thoughts when they didn’t take their medication- I was so scared of losing them. It always messed with me and my mental health when they told me about some new unhealthy thing they were doing. I was terrified.
At this point in my life, I had been doing so much better from the shithole I just graduated from. I’m still actively dealing with depression, but it was nowhere as excruciating as it was in high school. I was doing my best to do little local things and gaining job experience. I had been doing the work to get better coping skills, to learn not to bottle up my emotions, to talk to those I love about what I’m dealing with. By January 2025, I had gotten a good, stable library job and got with my partner. Seeing this friend run in the opposite direction was so depressing. Hanging out with them and them telling me about anything of this only made me so fucking depressed every time. And I tried really, really hard to give them some sort of support. I do feel like at some points I got pushy about it though. And at some point, I did get fed up with it.
I felt like a bad friend for it. And I still do.
I wanted nothing more but to have patience for them the same way someone would for me. Especially since my depression makes me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden to people. I never wanted to make them feel that same way. But it was hurting me to the point I can feel the healing I’ve been working on threatening to fall apart. I felt so close to relapsing to my older depressive habits.
Sometimes it felt like just my presence was something they didn’t like because I was doing better.
We didn’t actively talked during this time either. After we had graduated, we talked less, and even less so after they started college. There was a misunderstanding we had that left them not talking to me for months immediately after graduation and it left me to ruminate. When we got to talk again properly on their terms, we cleared it up, but I had expressed to them that I was scared they weren’t talking to me because they had left me behind. It was a big fear of mine, especially with me not going to college. They had clarified to me that wasn’t the case. We didn’t hang out until a couple of months after this with barely any communication.
There was just… a lot. So much. Because of course there was, we’ve known each other, up until our breakup earlier this year, for 9 years or so. Like how non-confrontational they were that, when they got angry at either me or their at the time (earlier) partners, they would just stop talking and communicating for either hours or months with us. Their partners would have to go to me because of this. Or how they didn’t want to go to therapy when I suggested they should but offered to go for their at the time (later) partner. Or how they weren’t a good person towards my (at the time, friend) partner during middle school and I didn’t find out until much later. Not through them, but from my partner. There was a lot building up that led to that whole depressive-drinking-party thing being my breaking point and going to my therapist. I didn’t even realize by that point that this had been building up at all, either.
The breakup itself was amicable, which probably made it sadder. We both acknowledged that it was just our time. They were quick with it and didn’t let the conversation last for any longer, which also made me sad. It was just overall entirely heartbreaking for me. This person was the first ever real friend I’ve ever had. They made me into who I am. I got to meet the people I did because of them. I met my partner because of them!
I’ve had a really, and I mean really, hard time doing anything that would express my grief in any sort of capacity at all. Losing them felt like losing a part of me. They were in my life for so long and helped shaped some of the most important formative years for me. They made me feel like I was someone worth keeping around despite me fully and wholeheartedly believing I wasn’t. It’s so hard to admit that. We became friends because of Undertale, so we would talk a lot about theories and AUs and original characters. As we got older, it became more about our original stories and our characters and some of their intertwined stories. If you came from my website, the wiki that I have, the Linnaea one, originated from an original story we talked back and forth about. They’re in my scrapbook way early on. They have a page dedicated to them. I still have their artwork, letters, crafts they made for me that I still look at. I still have our matching jewelry. Their comments on my artfight page, our animation meme collabs on my channel, their comments on my works. Some of which were deleted if it was on their end. I felt so comfortable with them. We talked about our futures together and how we’d visit each other.
How weird to know that won’t ever happen anymore.
It’s hard. Family members don’t want to hear me talking about them. I get scared that any art pieces I make and post will get back to them. I get kind of in my head about telling my partner about any of this. I also just, generally, don’t know how to cope with grief or whatever. I don’t know if the people close to me really understand how devastating a blow this was to me and especially my self-esteem and confidence with myself. But it’s not like I’ve ever really said anything.
I won’t lie, the loneliness that came with leaving really hurts. The realization that I didn’t really have much else beyond them that wasn’t also theirs hurt. I am generally doing better in the sense that I do have a stable life. I have routine and it’s been easier to deal with my own depression knowing I won’t also have to worry about this friend. My partner’s been nice and really supportive about my depression if it does it’s shit again. But it’s so easy to get caught up sometimes. It’s so easy to not feel good enough, more often than not. The feeling that the people that I love, the ones I hold so dear to me, could easily replace me with someone so much better is one that’s so hard to shake off. It’s not on purpose, sometimes the nights just feel depressingly lonely and really quiet.
The breakup happened in April of this year, and it’s September now. I still find myself getting sad about this. Mainly just because I haven’t really been able to talk about it. I didn’t really have the strength to do so. Though as of late, it’s been easier. I find it a little more easier to trust people that they Won’t Replace Me, but I’ve always been a little too trusting to begin with. It’s a little easier to see them in my photo gallery and see their art pieces wherever I have them scattered. I find myself imagining a better future for myself. I have a few of my own friends that I made and I’m trying to talk and connect with the people I already know. It’s just still hard. Breaks my heart knowing that they have blocked me on generally everything (They do this to anyone they have a falling out with.) I still get kind of envious when people can just make friends or have friend groups. It’s still generally hard to open up to someone about how I feel and take it seriously at the same time (letters and blog posts are so awesome). I still find myself getting depressed over the empty spot they’ve left in my life and even more so about what that means.
I don’t know how to end this post. This is my longest blog post I’ve written yet. I’ve had a lot of sadness and heartbreak and feelings build up about this, I didn’t really know what to do about it. Or more like… I’ve been too scared to. I hope the people I love know that they really do leave a deep impact on me. I’m trying hard to do not just push this to the side like I’ve been somewhat doing. It’s so weird grieving for someone who is still alive. But I’ll get through.