A few years ago, I met an amazing person through Slowly. We started talking a lot and soon moved to more everyday messengers. We supported each other, laughed, and had relaxed conversations. She became my friend, almost like a sister.
It’s hard for me to maintain long-term communication with people, but she changed that. She was the first person who didn’t just tolerate me but genuinely wanted to listen. Probably one of the warmest memories is from an August evening. I was at home, thousands of kilometers away from her, when suddenly she suggested we call each other. I went out onto the balcony and called her. It was still warm outside, but a cool evening breeze was starting to rise. Somewhere in the grass, cicadas were chirping, and in the distance, you could hear the voices of children playing. Such tranquility! And there I stood on the balcony, talking to her. To be honest, it was an awkward conversation; I didn’t know what to talk about. But it didn’t matter. We simply felt each other’s emotions. After that, we started calling each other more often, especially during tough times. She was my support, and she needed support herself.
This communication meant so much to me. We experienced so many wonderful things together! It was always so interesting to listen to her life, which was so different from mine. Who would have thought that these differences would one day become an unbridgeable gap between us?
Unfortunately, we are from different countries. After a few years of our friendship, a military conflict began between our countries. She replied, but less and less frequently. The last message I received from her was New Year’s greetings for 2023. And then she disappeared completely. It’s been two years now since I’ve heard from my friend, but I still write to her and cry.
At first, I wrote often and a lot—every week, then every month. I shared everything that happened in my life. But with each passing day, the hope of seeing a reply faded. Now, my letters to her are fewer and shorter. It no longer feels like an attempt to restore communication but rather like my personal diary. I just write to her, tell her everything on my mind, and reflect. I no longer expect a response. But each letter ends with a line about how much I miss her. I miss this connection.
Sometimes it feels like I’m going crazy. Who in their right mind would spend years writing to someone who doesn’t reply? But it hurts, and I can’t do otherwise. I lost a friend, almost a sister. And now, as everything fades, I’m afraid to forget her, even though it once seemed impossible that our friendship wouldn’t last for many years, despite all obstacles. But life doesn’t care about our desires; it has its own plans.
This is also a letter to her. She won’t see it. Her account on Slowly was deleted long ago. But this is where our communication began. That’s why it’s so important to me.
Nastenka, I miss you and hope everything is okay with you.
It turned out to be a sad story. Thank you, Slowly, for introducing me to an amazing person who became a dear friend. No matter what happens between us now, I’m very grateful that Slowly gave me the opportunity to enjoy every letter for some time.
