An Open Letter to the Friends I Really Like But Just Don’t Talk To

Dear Friend I Haven’t Spoken To Since April,

The first time we met, we just clicked. You are so funny, smart and interesting — I could listen to you ramble about your crazy day for hours. We didn’t see each other nearly enough when we were still on campus, but it always made my day when we did, especially when we bumped into each other in CVS, finally met up for a meal, or found out we were taking a class together and could be pset buddies. You are the best!

I’m really sorry I haven’t checked in recently — like, not once in the last few, uh, months. It sounds cheesy, but I promise that it’s not you, it’s me. You might have noticed that the year has been really rough. The world seems to be on fire and everything is uncertain. On top of that, I. Hate. Zoom calls. I could send a When2meet and schedule a catch up Zoom, but if I’m being honest, I know there isn’t much to talk about. I love you just as much as I always have, and I genuinely care about how you are and what you’re up to, but the Zoom fatigue is real. And I mean, you haven’t reached out to me, either — so I’m pretty sure you’re on the same page.

All I want is to go back in time so that we can spend more time hanging out in person. More wanderings into Boston, more late-night Jefe’s runs, more weird debates over what belly buttons would do if they were actual buttons. I just really miss you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you again sometime soon. And if you’re reading this, please remember that I love you to pieces, even if I don’t say it nearly enough. Please forgive me for being a less than perfect friend. I promise I’m still here, and I will smash through my Zoom screen to be by your side whenever you need me. This is both an apology and a love letter. I value your friendship and can’t wait to see you again soon to make some blessed (cursed?) new memories with you.

With love,

Georgia