It is distinctly uncomfortable spending a lot of time with a person and suddenly not doing that anymore. It’s like a piece of furniture in the room is missing, an itch you can’t scratch. It’s the withdrawal of a breakup.
I catch myself getting irritated at her emotional detachment, illustrated by stupid sophomoric shit like delays in texting (plagued with its own self imagined episodes of drama) and then I’m like, “Oh. We’re not dating.” This “friends” thing is different. I tell myself to stop giving a shit. I can do other things with my time. Giving a shit is a two way street, after all.