It’s a story that came to my mind this morning while I was working in my office, and I couldn’t stop myself from writing it. It is based on true events but “of course” modified.
It’s about a woman named Anna, in her mid-40s — a single, working woman who lives away from her family.
Anna had always lived more in her mind than in the world around her. She was introspective — the kind of person who noticed what others overlooked. She wasn’t loud, but her silence held depth. She had worked at the same company for five years, slowly becoming someone the management relied on. Her bosses admired her; some even called her their favorite but that admiration never translated into true recognition. Her name was rarely mentioned in meetings, her ideas often ignored or overlooked, and praise came in private, never on paper.
Despite that, Anna stayed.
She told herself it was for stability, for the family she supported back home. The job felt like a cage lined with velvet: soft enough to bear, but still a cage.
She had one colleague whom she considered her close friend in the office, someone she’d known for years. They had built a quiet, loyal friendship. She was the kind of person who brought Anna coffee without asking, and knew when she needed silence more than words.
Then, everything changed.
When her friend returned from a workcation trip to Canada, something about her was… different. But it wasn’t warmth or connection — it was absence. A kind of quiet, persistent avoidance. Her tone had changed. She no longer looked for Anna at lunch. Their small jokes faded. She responded when spoken to, but it felt like she was only half-listening — present in body, distant in soul.
Anna was confused. Years of working side by side — why now? What had she done to shift the dynamic?
At first, Anna dismissed it. Maybe it was stress. Maybe their boss had assigned her friend more responsibility. But over time, the change became impossible to ignore. Conversations that once flowed with ease now felt like obligations. The comfort between them had evaporated, replaced with a strange, silent distance.
Anna began to pull back too. The friendship that once felt so natural now felt strained. She avoided one-on-one chats, skipped their usual lunch breaks, and hesitated before responding to her messages. She missed the ease they once shared but also felt a growing discomfort — an invisible wall rising between them.
What hurt most wasn’t the behavior itself — it was the loss of something real.
Anna didn’t know whether her friend had changed because of new experiences or because of something she couldn’t see. What she did know was that their friendship was no longer what it used to be. And that realization made her feel small. Inferior. Like she had lost something precious without knowing how or why.
Anna thought of confronting her friend, but the fear of ruining what little remained held her back.
One evening, Anna sat alone in her apartment, staring at the message thread that had once been filled with jokes and inside references. Now, it was just… quiet.
She typed slowly, fingers hesitant:
“Hey, can I ask you something? Have things changed between us? Because I feel like they have…”
She hovered over the send button.
And then, she stopped.
Maybe she would send it tomorrow. Maybe she wouldn’t.
But in that moment, Anna realized something. She wasn’t afraid of losing the friendship — she was afraid of confirming that it was already gone.
In my context, People grow. Sometimes, they grow apart. And sometimes, silence speaks louder than words ever could. Anna was learning that not all questions needed answers. Some just needed acceptance.
She didn’t know what would happen next. But for the first time in a while, she was thinking not about what others thought of her — but what she thought of herself.
And that was the beginning.
The truth is — people do change. And sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is let them. Anna was beginning to understand that not every bond is meant to last in its original form. Some shift. Some pause. Some return when the time is right.
She didn’t need to chase anyone. Not anymore. She had her own path, her own passion. And those who drifted away? Maybe they were never truly hers to hold on to.
As she often reminded herself: everything circles back, in its own time.
Loved the real and raw emotions this writing portrayed ❤️
Thank you for reading this !!