You ever stare into the abyss of your unread messages and wonder, “Is it me? Am I the drama?” Yeah. Same.
 
There I was: over-caffeinated, under-socialized, and spiralling into week six of sending “hey! how have you been?” texts that were met with the kind of silence usually reserved for haunted mansions and unfriended group chats. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve got hobbies now. I make sourdough bread and cry into it for flavour.
 
Stage 1: Suspicion and Caffeine Shakes

But one fateful day at work, something unthinkable happened.
It started casual at work over a teams chat. I was chatting awkwardly and moaning about work and hoping that the jokes I was making were landing, but they laughed. And if I am going to be honest, human interaction has become such a rare treat I nearly blacked out from joy, while gripping my third iced coffee like it was a life raft in a sea of social awkwardness.
And somehow—somehow—they didn’t walk away.
 
Stage 2: The Friendship Courtship Ritual
 
We exchanged numbers. I considered that maybe I had imagined it. But then… they texted me first. I dropped my coffee. Like, physically. On the ground. Full collapse.
And get this: we actually talked. About things. Like hobbies. Interests. Our Partners (gasp).
Turns out we both love a good spicey romance book and both keeping going through adult colouring book phases.
 
Stage 3: Existential Crisis, But Make It Friendly

Naturally, I assumed it was a fluke. I expected the slow fade. The ghosting. The “sorry I’ve just been soooo busy” that comes right before they block you to become a monk.But they kept texting me.
 
Meanwhile, I’m over here spiraling like,
“Do they actually like me? Or are they just super polite? Is this a pity friendship? Should I Google ‘what does a real friend act like’ or just wing it?”
 
I also started stress-baking again. Because apparently, joy terrifies me and makes me hungry.
 
 
Final Thoughts from a Socially Rehabilitated Gremlin
 
After years of being ignored, left on read, and bonding emotionally with my air fryer, I made a real friend. A mutual, two-way, “chat about the good shit and bad shit” kind of friend.
 
If you’re out there feeling invisible, like the only human bean without a bean of a buddy, I see you. It’s hard. It’s awkward. And sometimes it feels easier to just mainline caffeine and dive into your 14th hobby (ceramic frog painting, anyone?) than to try again. But don’t give up. The world is weird. People are weirder. And somehow, against all odds, one of them might just like your anxious, over-caffeinated self exactly as you are.

P.S. To that new friend, thank you! Who knew our two-person book club would become the most exclusive literary society in existence—seriously, Oprah’s Book Club could never. I’m glad we’ve already bonded over questionable plot twists, deep intellectual insights like “wow, that chapter was emotional,” Here’s to many more pages, laughs, and our ever growing wish list’s that our partners are hoping would stop growing.