Chasm

We started out as strangers. Two people staring at each other across a chasm of unknowns. After all, isn't that how you start out with one another?

Her name was Leigh. She was ordinary back then. Chin-length hair, big brown eyes, big hands, big face. I didn't quite know what to make of her at first. Her words were bold and she jumped into conversations right away. Never mind that we weren't talking to her. She dove right in and steered the conversation like she had been the one to suggest the topic in the first place.

Maybe that's what I liked about her. She was bold where I was timid. She spoke her mind while I stayed on the edges of a group, content to linger in the fringes of the discussion and let my thoughts wander to wherever they would take me.

Leigh wasn't like that. She was extroverted. She sang, she danced. When she laughed it would come all the way from the deepest parts of her, as if it couldn't wait to get loose. She would throw back her head and slap the table with her hand. And we would laugh with her because that's what she did. She drew us in.

Two months in, seeing each other every day at work, gave us a broader grasp of her personality. Pretty soon, after-office hours gave way to a new meaning. It meant spending time at a coffee shop and spending the hours just talking. It meant going out for dinner after coffee and coming home so late at night just do it all over again the next day.

She was funny and also clumsy, but no one minded and it became part of her charm. She was vocal about what she wanted and who she liked. She was the youngest in our group, and if you know how it goes with those who are youngest, they often get their way.

As life would have it, we started doing everything together. Weekends were spent in spas, restaurants, more coffee shops, malls, art galleries, movie theatres, or each other's homes. During weekly meetings, we no longer sat opposite of each other smiling politely and wondering about the other person. We'd sit beside each other—all of us. While the boring talks went on, we'd whisper at the back and laugh as quietly as we could. I'd lean my head on her shoulder and she'd pat my cheek. No longer was there any tentativeness about the way we would talk to each other. We were no longer acquaintances, colleagues. We were more than that. We were friends—good friends.

There's no way to tell what will happen in the future. The funny thing is, I remember when a friend of ours left. Before she did, she gave us a chocolate bar, one apiece. 'Don't fight,' she told us. And we laughed. 'How absurd,' we said.

Sometimes, life is so much like what you read in books and see in movies. Sometimes, premonitions really do happen. You just don't realise it until it is too late.

A year later, we sat facing each other again, a chasm between us with no way of crossing over.

It started with jealousy, followed by a betrayal. It was only after a few months that I realised how blind I must have been. I introduced Leight to my inner circle, not knowing that, in the weeks to come, she would push me and others out and claim my inner circle for her own. They would meet behind my back and pretend to want to have invited me all along. They knew my schedule, so they set dinners and afternoon coffee breaks, knowing I would be too busy to come.

I did the only thing I knew to do: I left. Quietly. Slowly. I didn't want to draw attention to myself and our situation. 'The fewer people who know about it, the better,' I thought to myself. 'I can bear this myself. It's going to be all right.'

When someone asked her all about it, Leigh said she didn't know what made me so distant. She shed tears then to the person who asked her and the person told me I was a cold-hearted, cruel friend. How dare I make Leigh cry. How dare I hurt her. How dare I leave.

Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I had tried to defend myself. Would they believe me? But something tells me they wouldn't. Leigh was more popular. The 'it' girl. The 'in' girl. She was the life of the crowd, a walking party. She was popular and so many people wanted to be like her.

So why did she steal what was mine? Was this her plan all along or did something go wrong somewhere along the way? Sometimes, I'm tempted to think my mind is playing tricks on me and that she must be innocent all along. But when I remember her whispered comments, her social media posts, and the way she looked at me, I know that she knew. She knew what she was doing back then. But that didn't stop her.

These days, I don't see her much. I don't even talk to her much, even on social media. It's like our worlds have slowly drifted apart. Like those coffee shop afternoons and dinners and late nights out and weekend adventure never happened. I have learned not to share what's in the deepest parts of my heart, afraid that someone, like Leigh, will pretend to be my friend and take it all away.

There are days when I'm tempted to ask for the truth, tempted to send Leigh a piece of my mind. I've messaged some of the people who switched sides and turned their backs on me. After all, we were friends first. Good friends. Even before Leigh came along. I wanted to see if the cords between us could be repaired or if the bond of friendship was as strong as they said. But they haven't responded. They sit with Leigh, staring past me, while I call out into the silence of the chasm.