At 35, when the storms in romance have settled, the real tests begin in friendship.
Sometimes the thought creeps in when everything is quiet: What if i'm just hard to be friends with? What if i don't bring any value anymore? Why does it feel so difficult to hold on to old friends, yet just as hard to find new ones?
Maybe i'm no longer the easy one, the flexible one, the one who keeps the energy going. But, is it unrealistic to long for friendships that feel truly genuine?
I miss friendships that feel safe.
The kind where i don't have to measure my words. Where i don't feel compared. Where success isn't a competition. Where vulnerability isn't gossip. When an invitation to meet up isn’t just courtesy, but intention.
I wasn't angry. I was tired.
So i chose to archive (and even left) some group chats, mute and hide stories, stop showing up as much, slowly stepped back from some people.
Not because i hate them, but because i needed to stop hurting myself in invisible ways.
I don't want to keep waiting for invitations. I don't want to keep hoping to be remembered. I don’t want my invitations to be turned down while secretly hoping for a different one in return.
Maybe it looks like i disappeared.
But really, i’m learning how to stay with myself.
There’s still sadness, but there’s relief too.
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