Chapter 37: Remembering Narshcissistic

The Silence of a Friendship (Part II)

I still remember our Pizza Hut days when we were sixteen—carefree, laughing, and stumbling through life without a worry. You were my go-to friend, the one I could count on, the most chill guy I knew.

But what happened to us? How did we lose what we had? Was it something I did? I’ve asked myself that question over and over, carrying the blame like it was mine to own.

Our last memory together was that All Time Low concert. Even then, you were already slipping away—unreachable before the show, leaving me hanging, leaving debts unpaid. It wasn’t just about the ticket. It was the silence, the distance, the way you turned into someone I no longer recognized.

I knew you tried again on your second attempt at tying a knot but failed, and still, I stood by you. I sheltered you when you had nowhere else to go, even if it meant being scolded by my dad for bringing a friend home. Not only that, remember those times when I let you crash at my then-rental house, too? That was the kind of loyalty our friendship meant to me.

I miss our yearly birthday celebrations. I miss the easy laughter, the comfort of knowing you were there. Now, all of it feels like dust—scattered memories of a friendship that slipped through my hands, even as I tried to hold on.

Some friendships don’t end with fights. Sometimes, they simply fade away, leaving questions that will never be answered.

Guess you're just a narcissist.