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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UCD chapter.

A dear friend of mine and I had a falling out last year. How it happened is not exactly relevant, although I must admit that I still find myself frustrated by how everything played out. It hurts deeply to remember I’ve lost someone so fundamental to my early adult years, and I wish that I could reverse time knowing what I do now. Alas, life goes on.

Falling out with this friend was the first loss I had faced in my adult life, and it made me reconsider the kind of person I am. Was I in the wrong? Were they? Is it selfish to say I wasn’t? Is it self-pitying to say I was, knowing that it ended the way it did? This is not to say things went up in flames—my friend and I communicated what we needed from each other with as much respect as we would normally grant one another; yet after this conversation we avoided each other completely. There was no good-bye, no screaming match where we could release our resentment onto each other, and certainly no kissing and making up. A kind of hollowness hung over me for a few months after the fact. I constantly replayed our dispute in my head, fruitlessly wondering who had been right all along.

These thoughts made me consider what to do when the inevitable happens—when you and another person decide, under whatever circumstances pertain, to leave each others’ lives. Who do I text when I’m upset? Who do I get food with when I’m hungry? Who can I run into at random, ask how things are going, and smile as I walk away? I don’t think that anyone is necessarily prepared to grapple with this kind of grief, nor should we be: why assume the worst will happen? Yet, I scolded myself everytime I thought, They would smile if they saw this or I should let them know this just happened to me. It took a while to realize that in doing so, I was hurting myself more than just… letting it go. What a horrible thought, to let go. Let go of the memories, let go of the associations, let go of the broken rope you thought was tying you together. But time goes on, and I cannot let myself continuously grieve what could have been.

While I wish that things had ended differently, the whole encounter has shown me that some things are simply bound to happen. Sometimes you are guided down a path that does not align with a person’s who you thought you would follow for a lifetime. It’s difficult to come to terms with this, and it will alway be difficult to deal with the regret that comes with losing someone.

So, to my friend, if you’re reading this: I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did. I know that sorry won’t bring us back together, and I’m not sure that that’s what we’d even want at this point.

And to myself, I will continue to ask, over and over and over, What more could you have done?

Erika "Kiki" Gedgaudas was born and raised in Los Angeles and is now studying English at UC Davis. They are a musician, writer, baker, and perpetual daydreamer.