there’s something disorienting about a friendship that hasn’t ended, but also hasn’t continued. nothing was said. nothing was declared. it didn’t explode or collapse. it just loosened. and now it exists in this in-between space that doesn’t have a name.

that’s the part i keep circling back to.

because if it were over, i’d know how to hold it. i’d put it where finished things go. but it’s not. it’s just quieter. slower. less reachable. and i don’t know if that’s temporary or permanent, or if it’s even intentional on either side.

sometimes it feels like we’re both standing on opposite ends of something, waiting to see if the other will step forward first. other times it feels like i imagined the closeness more than i should have. like maybe i misread the weight of it while it was happening, and now i’m the only one trying to measure what’s changed.

what makes it harder is that nothing is clearly wrong. there’s no reason i can point to and say, this is why. no moment that explains the distance. just a gradual awareness that the way we used to exist around each other isn’t happening anymore.

and that kind of uncertainty does something strange to your head. you start questioning your instincts. wondering if you’re overthinking, or underreacting. wondering if reaching out would feel natural or intrusive. wondering if staying quiet is respectful or just avoidance dressed up as maturity.

there’s also something else underneath it that i didn’t recognise at first. i’ve always existed slightly at the edges of the spaces i move through. i’m mixed, so never fully claimed, never fully mirrored back. i learned early how to adapt, how to translate myself depending on where i was, how to belong without being named as such. with her, that feeling sharpened. not because she did anything wrong, but because she seemed to move through the world with a certainty i’ve never had. a sense of being rooted in something i was always adjacent to, but never quite inside. being close to that made me more aware of the distance i’ve carried my whole life. it’s actually quite heavy. i’m learning as i go.

i go back and forth a lot.

some days i feel settled. like i’ve accepted that friendships can change shape without asking permission. that people don’t always move through life at the same pace, and that it doesn’t mean anything has to be wrong for something to feel different.

other days, the ambiguity feels heavy. not painful, just unresolved. like a sentence that never finished. i don’t miss them constantly. i don’t think about them all the time. but when i do, it’s never clear what i’m supposed to do with the feeling.

i think part of me is still holding space without admitting it. not actively waiting, but not fully letting go either. keeping the door unlocked without standing in front of it. telling myself i’m fine with whatever happens, while still wondering what will happen.

and maybe that’s okay for now.

maybe not everything needs to be categorised immediately as “over” or “not over.” maybe some connections just go quiet for a while, and you’re allowed to sit in that silence without rushing to interpret it.

i don’t know if this friendship will find its way back into my life in the same way. i don’t know if it’s slowly ending or just changing into something i haven’t learned how to recognise yet. all i know is that i’m trying not to force clarity where there isn’t any.

i’m letting it be unfinished.