I was scrolling through TikTok a few days ago when I came across a video about “Who’s your 911 call when you’re having a breakdown?” and at first, I didn’t even bother to think of an answer. But I saw a familiar video again today, and somehow it made me pause and think.
“Who’s your 911 call?”
Do I even have one?
Oh, please, don’t get me wrong. I do have friends that I can always talk to, but while I’m breaking down? Nope. That’s like a whole different level of vulnerability that I am not willing to disclose.
I scrolled again, and suddenly your name popped into my head.
You?
I paused.
Oh, right.
I used to rely on you as my lifeline and my go-to support in times of need. You were always there for me, whether it was to lend a listening ear or offer words of encouragement. You were like my very own 911 — I knew that I could always count on you to come to my aid whenever I needed it.
I’ve always appreciated the fact that you never judged me for anything I shared with you. I’ve bared my soul to you, allowing you to witness every facet of who I truly am, as if you’d seen me naked with my clothes on. It takes a lot of trust to be able to open up to someone like that, and I’m grateful that I had you to confide in.
And a huge part of me still thinks of you as my best friend, and I don’t think that will ever change. Despite the distance that has grown between us, I still feel a deep connection to you, one that transcends the physical and the temporal. It’s like we’re two stars that are forever linked, even if we’re millions of light-years away from each other.
It caused me to pause yet again.
As I recall all the calls I made back then and the way you rushed to come see me and make sure I was alright, I can’t help but feel grateful for your presence in my life. I re-read all the messages, as they’re the only thing I have left now. And it makes me wonder what we’d talk about if we were still talking now. Would it be about our work? Or maybe college stuff? Or just my usual hug request? But I know that, most likely, I’d just rant about my day and my thesis, and you’d be there to listen and offer your support. And I’d do the same for you.
They say, “You never know what you have until you lose it,” but in my case, I always knew. I knew what I had, and yet I still had to watch it slip from my grasp without being given the chance to hold it. Cruel.
I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, but I can’t bear the thought of losing the ones I have right now, and realizing that you’re no longer a part of the ones I have now and that I can no longer text or call you random things or reach out to you when I’m overwhelmed by everything and just want to quit and give up, made the reality hit me like a crashing wave, engulfing me in emotions I never thought I’d have to face.
It’s been almost four months, but it still feels like yesterday. And I still search for you everywhere because there’s a glimpse of hope that you’re somewhere nearby that I can reach.
And the answer to that question is,
It was (and still is) you.
Except now, I have to learn how to live around the huge, gaping hole of your absence. Until you no longer exist as a thought,
