Underwater

What kind of friend was I?

She looked tired. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying. Removing a stray curl from her face, she finally looked up at me. It took everything in me to not break that eye contact. I felt…guilty. How did I not see it? What kind of friend was I? I looked away. She fidgeted in her seat, and with her voice barely above a whisper, she also broke the silence. “Lately, I’ve just been dreaming that I’m drowning. I don’t know why. All I can tell you is that in every dream, I get into the pool and take myself all the way to the bottom. There’s no fear. I don’t even fight it. I just let it happen. I just let myself die.”

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