Message: My friend has cut me off and I don’t even know what I did and she’s not replying to any of my messages.

In September, an ex–best friend forgets your birthday
but remembers the exact shade of lip gloss you wore
the first time you met, remembers just long enough
why she chose silence. When her replies stop,
you come up with excuses: maybe she is sick,
maybe there are family problems,
maybe she is only busy. Then your heart goes cold
as you hum through the static of a broken fan,
folding laundry you’ll never wear again in this new chapter,
heading off to college, realizing your friends were right—
she has already left. You recall how she once drew
the two of you being each other's bridesmaid across a fogged mirror
and called it a promise. Now September
breathes on the pavement, curling ants in its teeth.

In October, you leave oranges
on the windowsill for her ghost, remembering
that she—whatever her name feels like now—
used to love them. A month has passed since her last text.
The sky is so blue it hurts.

In November, you forget her birthday,
but remember the scent of her perfume,
the trace of her presence flickering back
like a half-serious teenage confession.
And it does get better.

Dear reader, whichever month you are standing in,
know this: a friend who leaves without a word
is like a warning, like thunder
before it hits.