Confessions logo

Hey K., hey B., hey everyone.

Farewell, my friend.

By Amsha OlsanPublished 2 months ago 5 min read
Hey K., hey B., hey everyone.
Photo by Marko Blažević on Unsplash

It’s been a few days now.

You know, I miss you. We haven’t been in each other’s life for a long time, and yet, you had such an impact. You became one of my best friends, my confident. Those types of friendship are rare, and I’m glad that we shared it. The end was… sudden and rough. You left a big hole behind you, but I don’t blame you, of course not. You were one of the strongest people I had the chance to meet. I had the privilege to see a tiny bit of your true feelings, the way you saw the world that scared you so much, but you still had an incredible will to live, you were filled with love and memes, you went through hell, and you became such an unhinged angel.

What a precious human you were…

After your death, I reread some of our conversations. I cried. You know, I’m good with grief, I learned it the hard way. My friend who called me mommy got suicide a few years ago. I was an absolute wreck. I cried so much, felt weak, completely lost. The people I love, I love them fiercely, with all my heart. I cried because I missed her, and she was still alive. She disappeared for four days before her grand mother found her. Hanged. I can’t imagine the horror and the pain.

And you know what? To me, you disappeared too, before I knew that you weren’t there anymore. I cried when I learned that you went to the hospital, I cried even more when I learned about your brain surgery, and I cried again after that, several times, a lot of times.

You know how I learned it? He came to my house unannounced and just cried in my arms. You know him and you know how out of character this is. I have things to say about it by the way, but not now. This one is about you and me. I will write another letter, because it was so easy to talk to you, I’ll just continue.

I hate grief. It feels selfish. How am I allowed to make this about me after what happened to you? Well, I have the answer, I had a lot of time to think about it. Death is the worst… for those who are still alive. What I mean here is that it’s the living who is grieving the dead. The dead are at peace. The living suffers. That’s the main difference. And with that in mind, it made things a lot less selfish. It hurts because you are here to remember the ones we love, but your loved ones are ok now.

I love you so much, I miss you so much.

When we met, you were grieving your grandma too. You had so many sweet things to say about her, you loved her so much, and God, she loved you so much. I saw some posts you made about her; you showed me things too. She seemed to be an incredible human, just like you. It feels horrible to me that I have so few things to say, because we didn’t have enough time to learn about each other, and now it feels pointless, it’s over and it can’t be undone, you’re not here anymore.

Your kindness and intelligence were the things I loved the most. You were so sweet and filled with love. You were gentle, most of the time (you know who I’m talking about). We were very much alike on so many points, and it felt so great. This “instant BFF” feeling is one of the sweetest, ever. I have a hard time trusting people, but you were so open minded, sweet, and blunt at the same time, how could I not trust you? You were genuine, and so, so, so precious.

We had some issues, at first, but I’m happy that we worked through it.

You know, one thing about me is that I feel special when people let me in. You let me in, you showed me a lot of vulnerability and trust. I sincerely regret what I said this time, it was out of anger, I shouldn’t have, but I also remember those times where you panicked so much, and I brought you comfort. The fact that I could do it wasn’t only because of me, it was because you chose to hear what I had to say, you trusted me and found a bit of peace. I’m working on it, finding my own value in what I can provide. It’s a journey, but I started it, and you helped. You helped a lot.

You did the same for me, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. You were there for me during on of my toughest time, and I can never thank you enough. You were my shoulder to cry on, my tiny piece of void to scream, and you were gentle. You understood my pain and helped me through it, without judging me, but you also helped me come back to reality when I got carried away too much.

Again, I can never thank you enough. It changed everything, and sincerely, I love you so much for that.

I’m so angry that you couldn’t have your camper. I wanted to meet you so bad. I wanted to hear about your journey on the road, I wanted to know that you were happy after this living hell you went through. Of all people, you deserved it so much. I wanted to craft something for you, but I didn’t have the energy, and yet, you did. You sent the sweetest letter to me with the most adorable drawing. I will always keep it and take care of it. It became one of my most precious possessions, and dear, I’m such a sentimental person.



What you did for me was absolute gold. You were an incredible human, and you will be deeply missed. I had so many things I wanted to tell you, I wanted to hear about you too. I was so worried about your health… and I was sadly right.

Life has not been kind with you, and I assure you, she’s still the biggest bitch ever. I needed some good news, and I seriously hoped that you would be the first real one in a long time. But no, what happened to you was one of the worst. I miss you, friend, I love you so much, sweet, sweet friend.

So, here it is, my goodbye, with a forehead kiss for B., because I love her so much.

Goodnight forever, I love you.


About the Creator

Amsha Olsan

I love writing strange stories, with strange characters.

I'm french but I enjoy writing in english as well.

I hope you'll like my work :)

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments (2)

Sign in to comment
  • Alex H Mittelman 2 months ago

    Great job!

  • Margaret Brennan2 months ago

    what an impact your story had on me. I had a best friend that I knew since we were both 8 years old. Through the years and career choices, our correspondence was sporadic but we each looked forward to each other's random letters. The he stopped writing. I found out 3 years later that he'd died. It broke my heart. I'm still healing and hope you are too.

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2023 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.