The moment someone slips away from you is not always a dramatic one. It can be quiet and gentle like a silent breeze you aren’t quite sure you felt. The realization of those moments, I think, are the saddest and also the hardest.
Do you quickly reach out and try to yank back everything you are watching slip away? Do you see how far it will go before they notice what is happening and return to you? Do you put a hand out and give them a choice to come back, no questions asked? Do you even care that it is happening? What does that say about you if you don’t?
What happens if they are thinking the same thoughts you are, asking themselves the same questions and waiting to see if you make the move to bring it up? Does it make you a bad person if you just don’t care anymore?
The moment you notice someone slipping away can be as simple as looking at the time. Looking at the time and realizing that the person you never go without speaking to at least every few hours has not contacted you since earlier that morning. This matters because this is not a one time thing, this has been a growing trend for a few months now. The conversations are further between, they are shorter…different, like friends and nothing more. Just. Friends. Even friends could be too strong a word for these types of conversations, they become more like acquaintance type of talks. Small talk.
“It’s raining today,” says one.
“Oh really? It’s been sunny all day here,” answers the other.
Literally conversations about the weather.
Then silence.
Sparse phone calls are filled with long silent moments.
And then that moment comes at 2:45 in the morning and you realize a whole day has passed and you haven’t spoken to them all day. Neither of you made that move to make the effort. Neither of you have extended that hand out, offering the chance that either of you care.
And then the saddest moment comes; the moment you would rather make a blog post than reach out to the one you have felt slipping away.
thechristineburas 