She hasn’t texted me in a month. She hasn’t given me any sign of life. She hasn’t answered my question. I wait every day, but my hope that he’ll respond is getting less and less. One morning I decided I’d waited long enough, I’d write to her. I didn’t know how to start, what to ask her. I didn’t know how we got to this point, because we’re best friends. I didn’t know why she was mad at me. What harm could I have done her that she didn’t gave me an answer. Because I know she saw what I wrote her. Enough. I can’t torture myself over this anymore. I’m writing to her what I feel, and only the pure truth.

“I don’t know how we got to this point, that a month has passed and you still haven’t answered me. Are you mad at me? Are you upset? Did something bad happen to you?”

I didn’t know whether I was more worried about her wellbeing or our friendship. Either way, I felt in my gut that something was going to fall apart.

And oh, what an avalanche I started!

A few days later, I received her reply. That extremely long message hit me like a lightning bolt from the calm sky. She was mad at me, furious. I could almost see her screaming into the phone screen. I saw her face distorted into a grotesque shape, her features sharpening, her head red with venom, her cold, blue eyes bulging out, surrounded by the fierce, searing flames of anger.

She wrote that I had let her down. When I hadn’t answered her message for two weeks. I couldn’t find the words. But I had so much to do, and my phone wasn’t working… I… I had so many people to deal with, and… and I didn’t had time for my best friend. I wasn’t there for her.

She firmly stated that she hated me for that, and wanted me to hate her too. But I couldn’t hate her. Shespoke ill of herself and me, ugly, disgusting things. I couldn’t even fathom how anyone could talk like that about themselves or anyone else.

The message has completely shattered my heart. Before, I was full of new ideas and happiness, and afterwards, all I was left with was fear and bitterness. The grief of losing my best friend, and maybe it was really my fault. I expected that we would be good friends for now on, but from the silent silence, a raging storm arose, wishing for my death, my agonizing suicide. That I should drown myself in a stream of hatred and never look back.