I consistently stay up every night and wonder what happened. I replay conversations in my head, hoping and yearning that some clue will miraculously appear and tell me why things are the way they are now. If I did something wrong, or if it’s due to how you’ve changed. But night after night, I come to the same conclusion: it’s not actually my fault and I cannot blame myself for what has happened. It’s all you. I tried the best I could, and I know that, even though I refuse to accept it sometimes.

It’s almost like you’re embarrassed of me at this point. Like you don’t want to seem “uncool” by talking to someone like me. God knows why, but I guess that’s the way the cookie crumbles. I wish I could do something, but maybe I should stop that. Maybe I should face reality and realize that I am not the one at fault for this failure of a friendship.