The Comment I Typed and Deleted
i wrote 'so happy for you' under her post four times tonight. i meant something else every single time.
This one goes to a heavy place. If you’d rather not read it tonight, that’s a fine choice — support resources are here.
She got the promotion announcement at four. by 2am i'd read it maybe thirty times.
'thrilled to share,' she wrote. thrilled. she sat two desks from me for three years and i covered for her the week her dad was in the hospital and she wrote thrilled.
i typed 'so happy for you' under it. deleted it. typed it again. the cursor just blinking there, the little box knowing i was lying.
i know all her passwords. she told me once, laughing, back when we were the kind of friends who tell each other passwords. i'm not going to do anything with that. i want that on the record. i just like knowing i could, the way you keep a key to a house you used to live in.
i thought about the email i could forward. the one where she said the thing about our boss. i won't. of course i won't.
i muted her instead. not unfollowed. muted. so she'd never know, so the little number next to my name would still say i was happy for her.
then i set my alarm for work. i'll see her at nine. i'll say congratulations out loud and it'll sound real. that's the part that scares me. how good i've gotten at it.
Did this one stay with you?
Keep reading
More like this
Stories in the same key
Picked for the feeling they share with the one you just read.
Her Key, Still in My Drawer
She moved out and left me with the rent and her key. The lock never changed. The revenge you plan in detail and never do.
Already Sent Before I Decided
After the last walkthrough of mom's house, one sticky-note furniture claim goes to my brother in the group chat, and I don't remember choosing to send it.
Anonymous Until Midnight
The anonymous review form already had eleven months of drafts sitting in it before I typed a single new word tonight, and it closes at midnight.