“Some endings are quiet. That does not make them painless.” – Nikita Gill

My Interpretation: Sometimes people ghost you without dying. & it still leaves you mourning. We had a Snap streak longer than most relationships. Inside jokes. Constant chaos. Cop memes. Late-night unhinged rants & broken heart confessions. We laughed through the trauma. Screamed about men. Said “always” a lot – like it meant something. & then one day… it ended. & so did we.

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🥃 The Drinking Buddy Disguised as a Soulmate

I used to think she was my forever friend.
My ride-or-die.
Rowan’s godmother – self-declared, then just… accepted.
We played the role like it was permanent.
But maybe that was just a game to her.

We bonded hard & fast.
Because honestly?
She reminded me of the best parts of my mom.
Turns out she carried the worst parts too.

She could be kind.
She could be generous.
She could also be sharp. Cold.
Quick to judge behind a badge she used like a shield.

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📵 The Streak That Outlasted the Friendship

I kept Snapchat just for her.
Literally.
I do not use that app. It drains me.
But I kept it for the streak – because it mattered to her.
Because I thought we mattered.

When I lost it, I felt sick.
Planned to message. To explain. To apologize even.

Until I noticed her location was gone.
Blocked? Turned off? Either way,
that stung more than losing the streak.
Because now I saw it clearly:

She was already gone.
I just did not want to admit it.

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🚫 The Badge That Silenced Me

She called me toxic.
Said both Cade & I were.
Said I needed control.
& refused to ever hear me when I tried to explain what I was surviving.

She was not a stranger.

She had receipts.

Knew every breakdown… Every spiral.
She was someone who saw my life in real-time.
Watched me bleed out in a thousand texts.

& still blamed me. Still chose him.
Even when we split –
She spent more time with him than me.
& I was just supposed to accept that?

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🫧 The Grief of Being Erased Softly

There was no fight.
No fallout.
No text that lit the whole thing on fire.

Just silence.
Distance.
A slow fade so quiet I almost missed it.
A slow fade,
Dressed up as maturity.

But the absence was deafening.

I was there through her divorce.
Every heartbreak.
Every phone call.
Every breakdown.
I held space for her without condition.
Hyped her. Respected her.
Never once judged her.

But when it was my turn to fall apart –

She watched.
She shrugged.
She walked.

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🪞 The Friend Who Made Me Swallow My Voice

She made me question my voice.
She made me question if I was too much.
Too messy. Too emotional. Too broken to be worthy.

She made me quiet.
Not in peace.
But in shame.

Made me hesitate around other women.
Because if someone like her –
someone who knew everything –
could still decide I was too much?

Why say anything at all?

She made me feel unworthy of softness.
Like being broken was a burden,
not something survivable.
She became the reason I bite my tongue.

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📓 The Warning She Became

Blaire did not ghost me.
She just left slowly enough that I felt every second of it.

She was a mirror.
One that cracked the day she saw my pain
& chose silence over support.
She did not have to stay.
But she did not have to leave like that.

She reminded me:
Some people only love you
when you are entertaining.
When your trauma is cute,
Your pain is manageable,
& your heart does not take up too much space.
When you are light.
When the skies are not grey.
When you do not make them look in the mirror.

She was not my villain.
But she was a turning point.
A final straw.
A quiet ache I still cannot shake.

She was the warning:
Not everyone who sees your storm wants to stand in the rain with you.
A reminder that love can still rot
when it is held in silence too long.

xoxo ♡