Friendship Nostalgia

Noemi’s Note: They say friendships come and go as quickly as they begin. Turns out, they were right.

I often find myself lying awake at night, wondering how things unfolded the way they did. Do I miss us because it’s over, or because we truly had something worth holding onto?

Friendships like something out of a storybook, that’s how I would’ve described it at first. The kind where laughter comes easy, where time stretches endlessly. But before I knew it, it turned into a toxic drama. Two people, one friendship, and nothing left to hold onto. Except for the memories, which somehow remain so beautifully intact.

And suddenly, we were two people, one friendship, and nothing left to say.

I used to think friendships were permanent, that once you truly knew someone, they would always be there. We romanticize the past as if it was ever meant to last. Nostalgia is a tricky thing. It distorts, sugarcoats, keeps us clinging to a version of something that no longer exists. And maybe never truly did. Maybe that’s the trick our minds play on us. It paints everything in softer hues, turning chaos into something almost poetic

I still catch myself listening to songs that remind me of that time, as if playing them on repeat could bring us back the happiness that was once there I press play anyway. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to forget, a version of myself that no longer exists.

It’s strange how nostalgia works. It makes us romanticize something that wasn’t always kind to us. We remember the golden days, but not the moments we spent second-guessing ourselves. We forget the weight of it, the way it drained us, that led to the inevitable end.

It’s strange how people can go from everything to nothing. How someone who once felt like home can become a stranger overnight. How someone who once knew you better than anyone can now walk past you as if you were never there.

Not all things are meant to last.

That’s the hardest part. Accepting that some friendship are just lessons. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sometimes, they just fade, slipping into the background like a song you once loved but no longer play. Even if it’s over, it was real. And maybe, that’s enough.

xx

by Noémi Zak