the part no one talks about

i came across a funny video on instagram, and out of instinct, i hit the share button. who else was i going to send it to but my best friend?

and then it hit me — he’s not going to respond. ever.
even sadder, his profile just moved two places to the right.

i don’t use the chat feature on instagram often, but i know how this works. it’ll shift more to the right, then to the bottom, then out of view, and finally — disappear.

same thing on whatsapp. the “frequently contacted” section doesn’t bear his name or profile anymore.

i think about sending him a message anyway. but i don’t because i want to preserve our final conversations. keep them easily accessible and free of clutter. maybe i’ll never revisit them — the hurt is still too sharp. maybe, one day, i’ll look through them again without breaking.

maybe i’ll replay those conversations in my head. relive some of the experiences.

writing about him in third person feels like i’m ignoring him while he’s still in the room.

all of it feels like betrayal.

i guess writing about it now is some form of acceptance.
have i moved through the five stages of grief too quickly?

i wonder what that says about me — as a friend, as a person.