By All Means, Goodbye
A Short Story Letter
I am writing this to you with a heavy heart, while the tears blur my screen and roll down my face. I am typing these words because my soul needs to say them, even if your phone remains silent tonight while you watch your match.
Tonight, I am finally accepting defeat.
We were just strangers on a screen a few months ago, a connection born on Snapchat that quickly became the brightest part of my day. In the beginning, everything felt so right. The instant replies, the effortless laughter, and that late-night rhythm that eventually crossed into something naughty and electric. For a moment, in the quiet dark of my room, I forgot the loneliness of my real life. I forgot the boyfriend who is always working, who loves me but leaves me starving for a simple message. With you, I felt seen.
But as time went on and we kept chatting, things began to shift. The distance grew slowly between us, but we never actually sat down and talked about it. Instead, we just went along with whatever casual conversation we could piece together in the moments we would chat again. I thought we were friends—or at least, that is what I desperately wanted to believe.
Piece by piece, the reality slipped out. You told me you weren't looking for a relationship. You told me you didn't have time for it. And last week, when the silence finally hurt too much and I asked if I should just go, you gave me your direct, uncaring answer: "If that is how you feel, by all means."
Those words stayed with me. With every day that followed, I became a version of myself I didn't recognize—constantly walking on eggshells, rewriting my messages two, three, four times out of sheer terror that I would say the wrong thing and make you uncomfortable. All I ever wanted was to just be myself for you. I didn't want to trap you. I just wanted to be a safe place where you could land.
When Monday came and I tried to hold onto our casual banter, you didn't even open my message. And today, your polite, chilling goodbye text was the final boundary you drew to close the door completely.
Tonight, I looked at my status, and your name wasn't there. You aren't watching my stories anymore. You are deliberately scrolling past me, erasing me from your digital world while you sit back and watch your game.
It breaks my heart that you know exactly how I feel, yet you are perfectly content to let me walk away. I used to hold onto a quiet, desperate hope that one day you would look at my stories, read between the lines, and finally realize just how much I wanted to care only for you. I wanted to be the person who kept you warm, who cheered for your soccer games, and who celebrated your journey to becoming a teacher.
But I see the brutal truth now. I am fighting for a friendship that never truly existed in the way I imagined. Maybe I was never a special friend to you. Maybe, the whole time, I was just another girl from Snapchat.
So, I am raising the white flag. I am accepting that I lost a battle you weren't even fighting. We will never be friends, and as much as it kills me to admit it, that is exactly how it has to be.
I have deleted our chat. I am wiping away my tears, putting on my headphones, and letting Leon Bridges carry me into the dark.
But despite the pain, I genuinely wish you well. I hope everything works out for you, and I hope you are truly happy out there in the world.
Love,
Just another girl from Snapchat.
