Owen

...

You were my mate at uni. We didn't have many friends. I figure it was our difference to everyone else that brought us together. Plus a love of the equalising nature of philosophy. We became flatmates at first, but we then became good friends.

From the beginning our relationship was defined by us being housemates and our MSN conversations which seemed endlessly long, going on to the early hours of the morning.

I remember you always began our chats with 'yo'.

Something happened.

We fell apart, we drew apart, I dont know the appropriate fucking words. I realised some problems in my life and I went through some changes. My depression got pretty bad in 2006-7 and I got in the hospital. I started to purge.

You never brought up my depression, but a friend told me that he talked to you about my behaviour becoming more and more erratic. It was the typical sign of dudes that we dont talk about feelings and vulnerable stuff. I had depression, I had anxiety. I had eating issues and it was fucking with my mind a lot.

I couldn't pretend, I didn't want to pretend. I didn't want to be a guy who talked about everything else but the thing in front of me (my depression). Our relationship had defined lines like how it was predominantly through MSN chats.

We drifted away. I started to know some women, and you were increasingly judgmental of other people and eventually, me. I didn't like it and I didn't like the underlying attitude.

For that reason I cut you out.

That's my reason, but I know it had consequences. I didn't explain, I didn't want to explain and I didn't want things to go back to how it was between us. I thought htat I didn't want an 'us'.

I think about you from time to time. When I cut you out like I did, I regret it. It reflects on something inside me that I don't like about myself.

You came to my flat in 2008 when we submitted our dissertations. You asked me point blank: why did you block me on MSN? To attempt the least painful way out I lied: I didn't block you. YOu walked away, you mumbled something as you walked off. We didn't say a goodbye, to some extent we didn't need to.

I'm sorry mate. It reflected a shitty part of me.

I had to change. At the time I felt that I had to cut you out.

I still think of you, and I miss the part of me that became 'us'. I miss 'us' to some extent.

You were one of my few bros.