The text was only a sentence long, but it was a sentence that changed my life.

I don’t hate you, I just think we should take a break from being friends.

I received it right before my English class, but I didn’t read it until afterwards. When my eyes processed the words, they immediately filled to the brim with tears. But I didn’t let them fall, because I couldn’t. These words, sent to me by someone who was supposed to be my best friend, shattered my heart. I had to make it through the rest of the day with a smile on my face, not letting anyone know that I was unwanted, cast aside like a leaf to the wind. It wasn’t a boy who broke my heart first; no, it was a girl.

This was my freshman year. I was already fragile, wandering the halls with my head down in the hopes of going unnoticed, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, not talking in class for fear of sounding like an idiot. I flew under the radar, just the way I liked it, perfectly content with the strong group of friends I had.

Although, the dynamic of my group was changing, and I didn’t notice until it was too late. New friends were being added, people I didn’t necessarily get along with but was forced to be around just the same. I held on to my old friends, wanting to keep that piece of normalcy in this world of the unknown. But it seemed I was alone in that thinking, and soon I would be alone altogether.

Things between me and her had started to go downhill rather quickly. It started with snippy comments exchanged, which I was always willing to overlook after stewing for a few hours. Then it was the extensive absences, which really started to bother me - after all, what’s the point of having a best friend if she was never there? Finally, there was a period of two days where we did not speak, and it was a tense, angry silence, not a calm one. But we made up, and I thought things would be back to normal.

Until, two weeks later, she would not acknowledge my existence for a full week, finally sending me the horrible message when I asked her why she hated me so much. Those were the last words I ever heard from her. I cried. I cried the moment I got home, and all through the night when my mind would wander back to those dreaded words. I cried because I had lost the one person in the world I thought I could tell everything to, for reasons I didn’t even know; but I also cried because nothing had ever made me feel so insignificant. For a while, I shut down. It wasn’t because of her, but because of how she made me feel - and I couldn’t help but think that if even my own best friend didn’t want me around, neither could anyone else.

I withdrew into myself. I have always been this way, so it was not surprising to me or anyone else. I built walls between myself and my other friends, not high enough to push them away, but to protect myself if any of them decided they didn’t want me around either. I wasn’t completely alone, though I felt like it often and eventually grew used to the feeling. I had other friends who did not leave when she did, and I made more. But those words still haunt me, and I can’t help but feel like someday this situation will repeat itself.

At the time, it seemed like no good would come out of this. It only served to squash me, to leave me to wander the oppressive halls with no one beside me. Looking back, as a junior who has grown more comfortable in her own skin, I see that many good things came out of this. I made a new best friend because of it, my self-confidence has begun to rebuild itself (though it took a very long time, I will admit), and I’ve learned to relish being alone, because in the end, the only person you can rely on is yourself.

I may have learned all of this through a very unfortunate lesson, but I am glad I learned it nonetheless; I know now that it was bound to happen at some point. That lost friendship opened the doors to many new opportunities and left me with years worth of memories. Even though we no longer deign to look at each other, I’m glad for the point in time when we were closer than sisters.