Noah Evans sat alone in his room, staring at his phone, contemplating his next move. He knew what he had to do, but it didn't make it any easier. He tapped out a message to his best friend, the words heavy with the weight of his decision.

"...I'm sorry," he said, as he hit send.

Days passed, and Noah couldn't shake the guilt gnawing at him. He avoided places you used to go together, unable to face the possibility of seeing you. Each time his phone buzzed, he hesitated to check, fearing your response.

But there was only silence.

Noah wrestled with his conscience, wondering if he had made a mistake. Had he hurt you more by disappearing than he would have by staying? The questions tormented him, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out and explain.

Weeks turned into months, and Noah's heart ached with the absence of his once inseparable friend. He missed your laughter, your comforting presence, but most of all, he missed the connection you shared.

As Noah walked home, lost in his thoughts, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, expecting to see a stranger, but instead, he found himself face to face with the one person he had been avoiding.

Noah swallowed hard, unable to meet your gaze. He had rehearsed countless explanations in his mind, but now, they all seemed inadequate.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "...I didn't know how to talk to you, and I couldn't bear to see you worrying."