My Dear Unfurlers,
Some friendships don’t break with a bang. They fade. Quietly. Painfully. And worst of all, unexpectedly.
I’m writing this today not because I’m angry—but because I’m done pretending I don’t notice the shift. The cold replies. The inside jokes I’m not part of anymore. The messages left on “read.” The way they remember me only when they need something.
It’s hard to admit, but I’ve been holding on to a version of someone that no longer exists. Or maybe they were never really who I thought they were.
They said we were best friends. That we’d never grow apart. That they’d always have my back. But slowly, I became the backup. The second choice. The one who laughed too loud, cared too much, and expected honesty in a world full of double meanings.
It’s confusing, isn’t it? When someone can be sweet to your face but distant in your heart? When you're surrounded by people, yet feel completely alone?
If you’re reading this and you’ve been questioning a friendship, here’s your reminder: friendship isn’t meant to feel like walking on eggshells. You shouldn’t have to guess if they still care.
I’m not writing this to get even. I’m writing it to let go.
To remind myself—and maybe you—that losing a fake friend isn’t a loss. It’s space being made for someone real.
This is my truth. It stings, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Because even the hurt deserves to be heard.
Unfolding dreams, one word at a time.
— Caspian Wren
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