I don’t clear out my phone often enough; messages sit there for months, years even. Call me a sentimental fool. I hold up my hand and confess.
Today, wrapped in a blanket, feeling physically unwell (as I have for some time), I decide to do a tidy up on my phone. With relative emotional ease, I deleted messages in order to clear space.
Then, I went back into my contacts in order to send a message to my husband. There, in my contacts, was my old friend who no longer wants me in her life.
Awhile back I had deleted her messages, so they weren’t a constant reminder of her absence from my life. But, at the time, and again today, I couldn’t bring myself to delete her from my contacts.
Realistically, I know she might have changed her number by now, but to delete her name out of my phone the way she deleted me from her life… I can’t do it yet. Not today. I still hope that one day she might say hello, might think of the friendship we had…might let go of judgements and assumptions…might just want to laugh and make music with another funny musical soul.
She doesn’t need me anymore. I was surplus. Complicated. And, I became uncomfortable (to her) when I began saying how I really feel and think.
My friend is gone, but I remember and I hope.
Hope is a bitch.