I guess I’m just… numb. That’s the word, isn’t it? Numb. My best friend, D., she moved. Like, really moved. Across the country for this big fancy job. “Dream opportunity!” she kept saying, all excited, and yeah, I get it. I do. It’s what she’s been working for, busting her ass, even more than me. And watching her pack up her little apartment, all those boxes of books and records, I felt... nothing. Just, kinda flat. Like a deflated balloon after a party, you know? Not sad, not happy, just… there. And that’s the part that actually scares me, the nothingness. She flew out last week. We had one last dinner, at that greasy spoon diner we’ve been going to since high school. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said, her eyes all shiny, and I just nodded, “Never.” We both knew it was a lie. Not a malicious one, just… a practical one. Spontaneous Tuesday night margaritas? Gone. Random Saturday morning coffee and complaining about work? Poof. She’s in some expensive city now, doing her big important job, and I’m still here, doing my big important job that mostly just pays the bills, barely. And the gap… it feels wider than just miles. It feels like a chasm. We used to joke about our “retirement plan” — living in adjacent bungalows, growing tomatoes, yelling at kids. Yeah, real sophisticated, I know. But it was *our* plan. It kept us going, sometimes, through the shitty jobs and the even shittier dates. Now she’s got a plan that involves 401ks and stock options and I’m still just trying to make sure I don’t overdraft my checking account before payday. It’s not resentment, not really. It’s just… a cold splash of reality. Like, oh. This is it. This is where our paths diverge. And there’s no big emotional scene, no dramatic tears, just… a quiet understanding that things are different now. I saw a picture she posted yesterday, of her new office, all sleek and modern, a view of skyscrapers. My office has a view of the back of a dumpster. Ha. Dark humor, right? I tried to feel happy for her, really tried. And I am, a little. But mostly I just felt a pang of… something. Not jealousy, not exactly. More like… a dull ache. A realization that I’m just stuck here, in my little life, watching everyone else get their big breaks and their big changes. And I didn't even protest. Just waved goodbye and went home and watched Netflix. It’s pathetic, I know. I should be feeling MORE. But it’s just this… quiet hum. Like a refrigerator running in an empty house. Empty. That’s the word.