White ceiling staring back at me. The dim, purple light of my LED lights the only things giving me a sense of vision. Towers of books reaching up to the ceiling, above my filled shelf. The occasional sound of a car speeding by, the constant sound of my oil diffusor, making the night less quiet. Lavender filled the air. Soft, cotton bedsheets, wrinkled and all over the place. The unlit screen of my phone, as I debate my next move.

I haven’t left my house in approximately 100 days. That’s quarantine to you. One would’ve thought it gets easier over time, but it doesn’t. Every day, all I’m stuck with is my head. Labyrinth of thoughts, I try to find my way out. Turning corners, just to find another wall. Every day, consuming thoughts. My life is like a Ferris wheel. One minute I’m on top of the world, and the next I’m at rock bottom. Some days are easier than others. Most of the time, I’ll do something with my family to keep me away from my thoughts, but the night is quiet.  It’s moments like these that I wish I still had him. He’s the only one who could ever keep me from falling into the void.

The one person I always used to count on, the one person I hadn’t spoken to in months. Not after everything went down between us. I couldn’t possibly fix that friendship, not after the things we said and did. At the time, I didn’t know I would ever miss him. Every day keeps proving me wrong. We would stay up all night, every night. Sharing music, sharing crazy theories about the universe and the afterlife, never thinking one day we’d hurt each other. On moments like these, I wish we could still talk, so he could talk me out of the void.

One would think it might be selfish of me, only wishing he was there to help me find a way out, but there’s more to it than that. I wish we could still talk so my days could be brighter. I wish we could still talk so we could apologize. I wish we could still talk so I still had my best friend. I wish we could still talk so we could go back to us. I wish, I wish, I wish. All wishes into the void, but they don’t have to be.

The unlit screen of my phone was still staring back at me. Maybe, just maybe, he missed us too. Our friendship was the best thing that had ever happened to me. That night a year and a half ago when I met him. That night changed my life. I learned more about life with him than I had in my entire life. I’d never had a friend like him, and I wasn’t about to let that go forever. I couldn’t let him go again. Getting his friendship back was worth a try. Worst case scenario, he’d decline my call and I wouldn’t have to see him for another four months. I turned my phone on, went to his contact and as I was about to hit ‘call’, I froze.

The world seemed to freeze along with me and I realized I’d thought about what I’d do if he didn’t answer, but what if he did answer? What would I say? How could I possibly make up for everything that happened? But if he didn’t answer, would I be okay with that? Maybe I was just making things worse. Maybe I should focus on coming to terms with the fact that I’d lost him forever. No. I had to try. I couldn’t give it up because of a maybe. He was worth the try.

I picked up my phone again, went to his contact and without giving it a second thought, I made the call. A million thoughts went into my head, my heart beat a thousand times per second. I felt a threatening wave build up, it grew taller and taller. The familiar ring of the phone, and then, the friend I’d thought I’d lost said, “I was about to call you too.” And suddenly, we were okay again. The wave broke apart as it softly hit the shore. Silence on both ends as we made amends. We didn’t need to say the words, we both knew we were sorry, we both wanted that friendship back. Sometimes we let people go, we let opportunities go, because we’re afraid of being rejected. Sometimes we’re too afraid to try going after what we want. But you need to ask yourself if maybe, just maybe, it’s worth taking the risk. And sometimes, you need to stop worrying about the maybe’s altogether.