A week had passed since the interaction in the cafe. During that time, there had been a whirlwind of happenings and emotions. What exactly were those happenings? Endless messages from Noah; him calling in person at my home; him even standing outside of my bedroom window with a boombox, blasting renditions from my favourite wrock band - The Dead Kneazles. Each of those efforts were met with radio silence.

That radio silence did not feel like a victory to me; I was more miserable than ever. Yet I wasn’t ready to talk it over with Noah. Did I even want to? That moment in the cafe played on a loop in my head, and it always made me feel worse than ever each time. How was it even possible to feel this miserable? I asked myself each time. Then I would kick that emotion away and replace it with the anger I used to mask the anxiousness I felt at being replaced.

When all those emotions drained me, I would flop on my bed and bury my face in my pillow. I would sob into it until my tear ducts were exhausted. I slept restlessly, which led me to be awakened with each toss, with each turn. Even my dreams were haunted by Noah who constantly hung out with Sabrina. To make matters worse, my once-friend seemed happier.

I was dealing with the consequences of my actions, and though I was miserable, okay with dealing with them.

What I could not stand was how much I missed Noah. But who needed him? Certainly not me. After all, I was not afraid to keep on living nor walking this Earth alone.

How did this issue snowball into such a huge issue?

I couldn’t wrap my head around it no matter how many times I sat in my own bubble of space to reflect on that fateful day in the cafe. I had expected that I would be able to calm myself down, to at least communicate once with Noah afterwards just what was bothering me. This was not the case, and I knew very well this was all my fault.

Christmas was two days away, and the realisation made me miss my friend even more. His messages and attempts to get my attention had stopped completely. I guess he finally understood that I had wanted nothing but a loud, frigid silence between us. The reverse psychology of it all, with Noah going radio silent on me, made me want to contact him.

But I didn’t do it.

I knew I was being stupid and stubborn, taking a drastic risk in letting our friendship fizzle out. But wasn’t that what I wanted in the first place? The be the one doing the leaving before it was done to me yet again? With this reminder and new sense of resolve, I focused on finishing up my gift shopping and getting them ready for Christmas morning.

It was the day before Christmas. My Holiday playlist filled my bedroom with upbeat tunes, both magical and mundane. Currently, the soothing sounds of Lindsey Stirling’s violin comforted me as she talentedly played ‘Carol of the Bells’. The aroma of candy canes wafted through the air from a scented candle. But where was I?

I was seated on the floor, surrounded by presents, gift bags, festive wrapping paper, tape, scissors and all the other necessary material for readying gifts. I was dreading wrapping Noah’s. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t sure if I should wrap it. Would I even be giving him? As I hummed along to Lindsey’s violin, I barely heard the soft knock on my door. “Come in!” I called, as I wrestled a friend’s enormous gift into a bag. Wrapping was not my strong suit, so I mainly depended on using bags solely. It was only a select few that I chose to wrap.

“Need some help?”

My heart skipped a beat in shock and I turned my neck so fast to stare at Noah that I crinked it. I ignored the brief, short stab of pain there. For a moment, I felt overjoyed and relief to see him standing there. But then I was reminded of what played out a few days ago. “Who let you in?”

Noah looked perplexed. “Your sister? She’s the only other one who lives here?”

“Oh. Right.” I turned my attention back to my task. I was aware that Noah sat beside me, not close as we usually would but with a bit more distance between us.

“What did you get me?”

“Why would I get you anything?”

“Because we’re besties.”

I let out a short derisive line. “Sure. You’ve never said that before.”

Noah was silent. I didn’t care. I was annoyed that my peace had been disturbed in my natural habitat, hence I worked in silence. Where there once used to be comfortable silences between us, this one felt remarkably heavy.