Unlearning You

Written by Sneha Prasad

edited by Vanshika

Reaching for the diet coke.

Losing friends is like having narrow crevices in your bloodstream. Your hands are filled with all this love, and you have no idea what to do with it. The aftermath of losing a friend is the devastating knowledge that their favorite color was blue, that they loved lilies and Dancing Queen by ABBA. It’s like reaching for a diet coke- so normal, so innate, yet it’s not yours to have anymore.

It’s like losing a part of yourself, a hole so big no amount of sugar can fill. A void, a gaping space in your world where that person used to be. It’s messy, tantalizing, and why do I still stutter when someone says your name?

Because you never really move on from lost friendships. They become a part of you, and you feel like an alien you can’t recognize anymore.

Should I text you?

What if you’re not even thinking about me at all? What if your sky is still just blue, and mine is your favorite color? What if your earth still has a fixed axis, while mine became a little crooked when I lost you? So I tilt my head a little to fit into my own world. I don’t go to our favorite café because you don’t exist there anymore.

Losing friends is like a slow death that never fully unravels. You stitch yourself into a being, only they’re a part of it too.

And now, somehow, you love lilies too.

And you keep on reaching for that diet coke over and over again