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Sometimes when I lie in bed at night, in those minutes between closing my eyes and finally falling asleep, I think about the people I used to know. People that once were so close with me, the ones that used to be parts of my days, the ones with whom I shared so many things. Stories, feelings, and even little things like drinks.

For some of them, I blame the distance as the reason of why we drifted apart. We were once confined in the same place, and the friendships grew over many lunches/dinners/nights out/other essential things in the mundane life. As much as I wanted to believe we had more than just shared times, it seems that once we got apart and had different lives, the force that used to bind us is gone. My attempt to reconnect seems futile, and I was discouraged by short replies and cold demeanor, which made me stop trying in the end. In other cases, we tried so hard to keep in touch, but eventually, we ran out of things to say. Something I’d never thought could happen.

There are also other people whom I was lucky enough to meet, but unlucky enough to meet them in the wrong time. There was someone who said to me, ‘I’m sorry you met me in the worst phase of my life.’ Until now, I actually believe that if I’d met him in a different time, things could have been so much better. These kind of people left a bitter taste in the end when things finally ended, and although now we’re capable of making friendly talks, there are emotional barriers that hinder us to have sincere conversations.

And then there are people who just disappear out of the blue. This silent goodbyes, ironically, were the one that caused turmoil. For this kind of people, I spare myself the trouble of trying to keep in touch. Why letting someone in if they could leave you any time they wanted? The fact that they didn’t bother to give explanations already says so much about them.

It’s not all like that. Some people are still being an important part of my life despite the distance and time difference, while some others met me in the right time and we just clicked, and nothing’s changed.

I keep telling myself those people — the ones who are gone — have given me something to learn, even if I had to learn it the hard way. Sometimes I believe it, but other times I think I only say it because that’s the only consolation I can give to myself.

R. M. Drake says, ‘The best kind of humans are the ones who stay.’

I wholeheartedly agree, and thanks to those who are gone, I treasure the ones who stay more than before.