I still haven't heard from her.
It breaks my heart to think that perhaps she's gone, gone forever. There are times when I'm choked with sadness because I miss her so much and all my feelings, which can't be expressed articulately and fully, get stuck in my throat. Nothing can be sadder than the loss of something one thought secure, and it hurts me to realise that we don't have a firm bond as I thought, that once she decides to withdraw I don't know how to reach her, that she knew me more than I knew her, that she just disappears like a bubble and everything seems like a mere dream. Or perhaps it hurts more to think that if she were here, she would, I'm afraid, still be moody and hypersensitive and irritable and would get mad at every little thing, easily provoked, easily offended and easily hurt and I would continue to flare up and say horrible things and hurt her because of my short temper and in spite of my certainty that I would repent it afterwards.
It's the uncertainty of this that torments me deeply. I can't say if she decided to leave forever so that all that remained for each of us would be memories, or if she wanted to get away for a while to get things settled and to go through a hard time, or if something happened to her that I simply couldn't know.
Only when she's already gone do I realise that she's the only person who has seen my soul naked and has seen all my negative aspects, who saw me in moments when I was a most disgusting person, who has been with me through all those dreadful and unpleasant experiences. But now she has gone. It's awful, awful, awful.
PS: Once, a long while ago, I wrote a blog entry about a friend whom I had known for over 10 years. The main point basically was that at some point our paths diverged and we became so different that we no longer had anything to talk about, and I thought I should cut all contacts with her so that I could keep the beautiful memories instead of feeling awkward and uncomfortable with her. The truth is, it didn't happen. We remain to be friends today, and talk sometimes. We aren't close as we were years ago, but it doesn't matter any more. It's beautiful when we, once in a while for some reasons, talk of the past and have some private jokes, and it's truly nice when now and then she and another friend know something related to me that other friends don't, such as my grandma. Our changes no longer matter.