A Friend

I wanted to be the friend you could always count on, just a speed dial away. But in reality, I was the one who needed you the most. I admired every aspect of you – from your shoulder-length dark hair framing your flawless round face, to your small hips that were both bold and shy, and the way you threw your head back when you laughed, resembling a graceful swan. You were the one who patched up the wounds on my face, wiped away my tears with your thumb, and instilled in me the belief that I could escape the house that had only brought me pain. You helped me confront the haunting memories that made me subconsciously touch my belly, recalling the trauma of almost becoming a mother before he violently struck me. You filled my mind with visions of a brighter future, your free spirit defying gravity and inspiring me to believe in the impossible. Many misunderstood you, labeling you as arrogant, self-absorbed, and a know-it-all. I vehemently rejected their judgments, defending you with every fiber of my being. You, in turn, dismissed their accusations that I was a lost soul, a mere puppet in the grand scheme of things. I knew deep down that our connection was destined. As the saying goes, “a friend in need is a friend indeed.”

You found yourself a lover. I had never seen that glow in your eyes before, which made me look away when you talked about your love. It made your cheeks blush, your feet tremble, and when you insisted that I meet him, I agreed. I came face to face with the person who left a scar on my left cheek. I still felt the pain when I tried to smile. Your hands were intertwined, you communicated with your eyes, and completed each other’s sentences. My heart was in disbelief, and when he denied knowing me, I had to object. He silenced me with a well-crafted speech of regret and a promise to change. I read in a magazine that a friend should forgive and forget.

Did I feel jealousy when you stopped calling me every other minute? I knew you needed to explore this new thing and immerse yourself in its allure. It filled a void in your heart that casual hugs and laughter couldn’t. You got lost in the intimate words that touched your soul. My phone rang less frequently, and each time you seemed rushed, always busy with cooking, groceries, or errands. The promises to meet up were never fulfilled, and excuses piled up. I grew accustomed to it, burying my fears. I once read that a true friend should be willing to let you go, and if you return, it was meant to be.

The distance that had grown between us prompted me to pursue knowledge in psychiatry to help others who had faced similar challenges. As my exams approached, I immersed myself in my studies, attending classes, poring over every page, and sacrificing personal connections. I reassured those around me that it would all be worth it in the end. On the day of my exam, I faced a panel with a tense voice and trembling hands, but your encouraging words echoed in my mind, calming my nerves. Their nods of approval indicated satisfaction with my work, perhaps overlooking any mistakes. As I left the panel, I felt like a newborn, with the world at my feet. I knew you would be proud to read in the magazine that a friend was making a positive impact on the community through her accomplishments.

The joy in my heart compelled me to share with you. I must tell you how my blouse was almost drenched with sweat, how my feet could barely hold me up, but your words were my strength. I needed to hear your voice once more. This time, I was determined not to take no for an answer. The phone rang four times, which seemed odd. The voice on the other end sounded hoarse, causing me to frown as I inquired about you. The voice informed me that you had been placed peacefully in a closed box, that he had stabbed you in the belly when you spoke out, and that your voice wasn’t loud enough to call for help. I was told that I would have to find another way to communicate with you, a way that science has not yet discovered. I was torn apart by this news, my heart pumping dark blood through my veins. I wanted to silence my lips for not speaking up, to break my legs for not reaching you faster, to block my ears from hearing other voices that might make me forget yours. I found myself staring at a blank wall in a café, letting the steam from a hot mug of coffee burn away the tears in my eyes. I know that soon I will read in a magazine that all your friends have been invited to see you one last time. Rest assured, I will be there. I will hold your hand in mine. You will not make this journey alone, for a friend will be by your side in the present and beyond.