TW: Friendship woes, loneliness, depression talk, melodrama

I've fallen out of touch with my "best friend". By "fallen out of touch", I mean that I finally got tired of being bailed on, intermittently ignored and made to feel shitty for 10+ years, and I stopped initiating contact. Fortunately, as has been the nature of our friendship, contact was generally initiated by me anyway, so we haven't been in touch since a cursory text message on New Year's.

But Facebook. Oh, Facebook.

I hid her from my newsfeed last year because it hurt too much to see her make time for everyone else in her life while saying she's "too busy" to get together with me, or even to send me a text. This while still referring to me as her "bestie", worthless appellation that it is. I didn't block or unfriend her, because I guess I'm not ready to completely cut her out of my life. At this point, after being friends for so long, our mutual acquaintances and even our families are enmeshed. I didn't want to initiate any drama.

I've tried this before, this slow-fade that isn't really because it's neither slow nor is it a fade, but wound up giving into the abject loneliness of recognizing that suddenly you have no friends, not even mediocre ones. Mourning the loss of a long-cherished friendship, my oldest and most constant, sent me into spirals of anxiety and depression that almost ruined me on two separate occasions last year. But this time around I feel better about it. I made a new friend (which sounds like such a stupid thing to be proud of but for me, it's an accomplishment) that seems to have some possible staying power. This person texts me, and responds to my texts, and initiates outings, both individual and with our boyfriends. I have a semblance of a social life. I'm... okay.

But sometimes, curiosity gets the best of me and I click on her profile. And โ€” even if only for a little while โ€” the sadness returns. I miss her. I miss spending time with her, and complaining about things as was our habit. I miss the inside jokes and the wild laughter we shared for the better part of a decade. But then I remember all the times she's flaked last-minute on a long-held plan for no reason other than "that's just how she is," the awareness that I've always answered her calls when she was in a crisis knowing full well that I could never be sure of the same consideration. I remember the silence. And I realize that our friendship was always one-sided. I needed her more than she ever needed me. And what I thought we were, the person I thought she was, never really existed.

When will I learn?