The Silence Between Us

Hi, guys.

This is the first time I’m including a personalized author’s note in my post. Tonight—and yes, this is also my first time posting at night—it’s 10:00 p.m., January 6, 2025. I was supposed to be studying, but a text message from a friend I hadn’t expected to hear from completely derailed that plan. It wasn’t just the message itself; it was the memory it pulled out of me, one I’d buried so deep I didn’t realize it was still sitting there, quietly hurting. Don't say it's petty though.

…

“You sef, what’s doing you these days?” Zaynab asked, her voice light but edged with curiosity. Coupled with the typical ‘I’m not expecting you to tell me AlhamduliLlāh ‘ look.

We were sitting on the steps outside the anatomy lab, a place we’d unconsciously claimed as ours over the semesters. The evening was still a d I loved the hues of the sky that night, with occasional bursts of chatter from classmates passing by. Someone close to me was nursing a warm bottle of Coke, the kind that loses its fizz halfway through. In my mind, I commended the individual’s grit because I couldn't even breathe well with the formalin-induced stench.

“Nothing,” I said, keeping my tone deliberately vague. To be very honest, I was exhausted and was going to brush her off. After all, I would survive that particular overwhelming phase and start our friendship all over again.

Zaynab tilted her head, her brows furrowing. “Nothing ke? Since when did we start lying to each other? Did I do something wrong ni?”

Her words stung—not because they were harsh or meant to guilt trip me, but because they were true and as heartless as I was already becoming,it hurt me. I’d been distant, even though I’d convinced myself otherwise on numerous counts.

Friendship doesn’t fall apart overnight. It’s not the explosive arguments we see in movies; it’s quieter. It’s in the unread messages, the missed calls, the times you tell yourself, “I’ll check in tomorrow,” but tomorrow never comes. The times you tell yourself this is something you should do alone, especially if you're like me and you have issues with opening up.

Zaynab and I had been inseparable at first. I still remember the day we met during orientation week. She’d spotted me struggling with my hijab in the wind and joked, “That hijab looks like it’ll survive a tornado. But seems you have trust issues and you think this wind will blow it off you” We laughed, and from that moment, we were a team.

We survived sleepless nights cramming for tests, swapped notes in lectures, and debated everything from anatomy diagrams to whether or not the dissection room’s snacks were safe to eat.

But this semester had been different. Between the chaos of medical school and my freelance writing deadlines, I’d started pulling back. It wasn’t intentional, but I’d told myself that everyone was just as busy as me, and if they needed me, they’d reach out. Except that’s not how friendships work.

“You’ve changed, a lot” she said softly, almost as though she regretted saying it out loud.

I wanted to argue, to explain, but all I could do was sit there, coat in hand and let the weight of her words sink in. I've always sucked at friendships.

Friendship in medical school is complicated. You bond over shared exhaustion, celebrate the small wins that only those in your world understand, and lean on each other through the pressure of it all. But somewhere along it all, the very things that connect you can pull you apart.

As we sat there, the silence between us was heavy. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It was the kind of silence that feels like a crossroads, where you can choose to either drift further apart or take a step toward mending what’s broken. A lot was going on in my head, I'm sure it was the same for her.

“Okay,” I said, breaking the quiet. “Maybe I’ve been distant lately. But I needed the space”

Zaynab’s expression softened. “It’s not just me, you know. Everyone’s noticed. You’ve ghosted us all. I know when to give someone space but what you just made us all give you went beyond that.”

We both laughed and spoke further, the tension breaking slightly. And just like that, the dead flutters in my head were all up again. Well,the silence between us wasn’t entirely gone, but it wasn’t so heavy anymore.

Here’s the thing about friendships: they’re fragile. They need care, attention, and the occasional awkward conversation over a warm drink outside the lecture theatre. They don’t demand perfection, just effort.

If you’re reading this and thinking about a friend you’ve drifted away from, take this as a sign to reach out. Maybe it’s not too late to bridge the silence.

Friendship doesn’t have to end in silence. Sometimes, it’s where it starts to heal.

Also like a said in my previous letter,learn to loosen up a bit and be vulnerable to someone,in a good way. This isn't an actual point but I'm saying it because most of the times I've drifted from friendships,it was because I was too scared to be invested or to share integral parts of my existence with people.

Anyway,reach out to that friend and mend that dilapidating relationship of yours today!