The Friendships That Survive Silence
On the friends you can not speak to for a year and pick up with mid-sentence.
Kunle and I went fourteen months without a real conversation — not a falling out, just life, the way it happens when one person moves and starts a new job and the other has a baby and neither of you is being unkind, you're just both underwater. Then we spoke on the phone for two hours as if no time had passed at all.
I used to think this was rare, almost suspicious — like it meant the friendship hadn't mattered enough to maintain. Now I think it's one of the more reliable signs that it did. Some friendships need daily maintenance, regular texts, a steady drip of contact to stay alive, and there's nothing wrong with that — those friendships are doing real work too. But others were built to survive being left alone for a while.
What actually carries it
I've tried to figure out what makes the difference, and I don't think it's how close you are, exactly. It's something closer to whether the friendship was ever built on performance — on keeping each other updated, curated, presentable — or on something more structural, a shared way of seeing things that doesn't need refreshing.
With Kunle, the two hours weren't spent catching up on facts. We skipped most of that. We went straight to the actual conversation — the one about what he was scared of in the new job, what I was still not over from the year before. The facts didn't matter. The register did.
I think this is worth saying because silence in a friendship often gets treated as evidence of decline, something to feel guilty about, a debt accruing interest. Sometimes it is. But sometimes fourteen months of silence is just fourteen months, and the friendship was never measured in months to begin with.
Not every silence is neglect. Some of it is just two lives, temporarily too full to narrate themselves to each other.
I'm not going to pretend this gives permission to abandon every friendship and assume it'll survive. Most need tending. But it's worth knowing which of yours don't — not so you can stop showing up, but so you can stop apologizing for the gaps.
THAT'S ALL FOR THIS SUNDAY.