I think the worst thing about being ghosted is that there isn’t really anything to do about it. It just is what it is. Deep down I hope for another shot just to hear her voice, but I’m pretty sure I’ve run out of shots. It’s funny that 70% of that friendship was so stressful thinking about what she was doing and hoping she was ok and wondering why she wasn’t picking up my calls and wondering if I said anything wrong. But for that sweet 30%, it was just nice to hear her voice. To know that she was there. Neither of us were particularly good at being comforting or supportive. How could we? We both had our own anxiety and problems. Her problems were a lot larger than mine. That’s why I tried to be so patient. Oh well. It’s been a little over three days since I’ve last tried to contact her. I left the door open so she can come back, but if she wanted to, she would have picked up or texted back all those times. I think this is the final one. Funny thing is I wanted to see her in person so bad. To just see her. I would have liked to spend her birthday with her, and try to make her happy on that day. I guess high school graduation was really the last time I would ever see her. I scheduled a therapy appointment for the 22nd. I think learning I had atychiphobia was that missing puzzle piece. Now I know what I can focus on. The place I know where to chip away at. Not the vagueness of depression or anxiety. But a concrete fear to look into.