Scorpio

The silence between you and someone who used to call every week carries information that neither of you has been willing to read yet. You both know what happened, the small accumulation of missed calls and delayed responses that hardened into something larger, but naming it would require admitting how much easier it became to let the distance grow. There is a particular weight to friendships that end not in argument but in the slow fade, where the door stays technically open but neither person reaches for the handle. You keep meaning to text, and they keep meaning to text, and the meaning becomes the thing that replaces the doing.