The ship

After a broken friendship, a few relate-able films and a spot of dismay still sitting there somewhere in the corner, it’s a heartbreaking question of “why do we lose people who’ve become so important to us?”. Or maybe the question should be constructed like this- “Why do we end up damaging the friendship that we actually value the most?”.

We can always say that maybe, it’s what’s best, or that there is a reason why things had to end the way they did, or how something so great is meant to just pass us by. We can always come up with something so optimistic, just to make ourselves feel better. But really, who are we kidding here? If we can’t be honest with the people asking about it, at least be realistic about our situation and accept the fact that we, did something stupid or, encountered a friend who did something stupid that made things end between you two. That we messed up. That we had hurt a friend, and ended up hurting ourselves for losing them (or vise versa).

If we’re lucky enough or our friend is as nice as we are, we eventually get to patch things up and get back to how things were before. Or if we’re really the luckiest people on earth, the friendship becomes stronger than ever and you two would look like inseparable besties.

But what really, if not often happens, is we either get to fix it but never get it back like before, or totally lose it. We can always try. That’s what we always do. But if the will to do so isn’t mutual and the scale is always lacking on the other end, then it’ll only fall and the one who does the effort will get tired and give up in the long run.

After that, the following happens: If you’re the friend who did the effort in fixing the friendship, you’ll feel sad about losing the person but you don’t carry that weight, knowing you did everything you can think of to make things work. “You did what you can, self. Maybe it’s for the best”. If you’re the other friend, you probably don’t care so much for the fact that you didn’t give an effort, or your pride is just more precious than anything or anyone else and you think your friend just didn’t do enough to build the friendship back. “Things just don’t work out like that. Maybe it’s not meant to last”.

But deep down in that whole chunk of pride or that facade of ‘the’ better person, is that disappointment, that thin thread of push to try one more (or last) time, and that faint spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, it’ll get fixed.

And we wait. Maybe the other person will realize it first. Maybe if we wait a little more, they’d man up and do it.

Because frankly, we always have that courage to say things without thinking about it and ending up hurting someone, but we curl up and hide to say the things we’ve said in our heads over and over again because we know it’s what we really want and need to say. Because we’re too afraid to take risks, we expect the worse, and we know how pain feels like. 


(I’m trying to sound witty here) To all the ship that’s about to hit that iceberg, please, save your ship. I promise, it’s worth keeping than that pride.


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