Once upon a time,

I thought you’d be standing beside me on my wedding day.

Turns out—you wouldn’t be.

And turns out there wouldn’t be a wedding anyway.

And somehow… that’s okay now.

There was a time when our friendship felt unshakable.

I had your name saved in my phone as “Forever Friend.”

I believed in that title like a vow.

But life, in its quiet unfolding, had other plans.

Once upon a time, we were roommates.

We left each other love notes on the counter,

cooked meals like we were feeding a little family,

threw themed parties, decorated the seasons into our home.

There for each other, on the anniversary of a loved one’s death, big test days, drank too much, and nights I won’t mention.

We were there for each other. Forever. I thought.

We shared groceries, playlists, secrets, and silence.

We were students, dreamers, planners.

We dropped each other off at class,

walked home from parties hand in hand, and heels in hands.

We became inseparable.

Roommates. Soulmates in friendship form.

We cuddled my dogs on the couch like they were your own.

like they were part yours, too.

Laughed until we cried.

Cried until we laughed again.

And the camping trips…

God, the camping trips.

We built bonfires and memories under the stars.

We roasted marshmallows and talked about our futures.

Rode jet skis and made our favorite drink at the time, a pain killer. Haven’t had one since.

We wore matching flannels and borrowed each other’s hoodies.

It felt simple and sacred—

Like life had handed us something golden.

Back then, I used to thank the universe for my relationship with my now ex of five years.

not just for the love I had,

but for the relationships it brought into my life.

And you were one of the best gifts of that chapter.

We traveled for birthdays, showed up for wedding dates,

and drove hours for no reason except that we mattered to each other.

We barbecued on mountaintops looking over our college town.

We built memories like mosaic tiles—messy, radiant, real.

I thought of you today.

But the me who thought of you isn’t the me you once knew.

And I know you don’t know this version of me anymore—

just like I no longer know the version of you, you’ve become.

And still,

I hope and pray you’re thriving.

That you’ve grown to love yourself as deeply as I once loved you as a friend.

That you’ve found strength in your relationships,

peace in your soul, and gentleness toward your past.

For a long time, I blamed the end of our friendship

on the relationship I was in at the time.

But now I see more clearly:

it wasn’t you, or me, or even him.

It was life.

We grew apart.

And that’s allowed.

There were moments, especially near the end,

when I felt so lost and needed comfort.

I hoped you’d be there to hold me,

but you had your own storms, your own shadows.

I see that now.

And I know you never meant to hurt me.

I want you to know—I’ve leveled up.

More than once.

And I hope you have too.

You’ve always been a sunflower to me—

golden, vibrant, turning toward the light.

And I hope the world has reflected that back to you tenfold.

Even if we never talk again,

you were real.

We were real.

And nothing can take that away.

I hope you’re happy.

I hope you’re healing.

I hope someone shows up for you the way you once did for me.

There will always be a soft place in my heart where you live.

Not in a way that aches anymore—

but in a way that honors what we had.

Thank you for that season.

Thank you for the laughter, the growth, the loyalty.

Thank you for being my person—

once upon a time.

Even though our chapters no longer share pages,

if you ever needed me—truly—

I’d be there.

Just so you know.

With nothing but love,

— Casandra

🌻 Reflection: Letting Go Without Closing the Door

Friendship breakups can be harder than romantic ones. They don’t always come with a clean end—just slow silence, misunderstood distance, or life’s inevitable drift. Sometimes we grow apart not because of conflict, but because we grow in different directions. That doesn’t make the love or memories any less real.

This letter is not a door closed.

It’s a window left slightly open,

letting the breeze of what once was carry through the air,

soft, familiar, kind.

Growth doesn’t mean forgetting.

Healing doesn’t mean erasing.

And letting go doesn’t mean we stop loving.

Some people were meant for a season,

but their impact spans a lifetime.

📝 Journal Prompts

Who is someone from your past that helped shape you into who you are today—even if they’re no longer in your life?

What are you still carrying from a past friendship or relationship that needs to be released, redefined, or honored?

🌺 Gentle Challenge:

Write a letter to someone you’ve grown apart from—what would you want them to know if they could hear your heart now?

✨ Quote to Close

“Just because something ends doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. It simply means its purpose has been fulfilled.”