Disclaimer
The following article contains emotional turbulence, soft ghosting, unexpected nostalgia, and glittery friendship bands once tied like sacred vows. Reader discretion and maybe a tissue are advised. Some friendships vanish like seasonal labubus or a weeklong matcha craze. Others stay stubborn, like those old Nokia phones. And then there’s the messy middle — the left-on-read, the quiet exits, and group chats that turned into graveyards. But before you stop reading, maybe pause and sit with it.
"Friendship is far more tragic than love. It lasts longer,” wrote Oscar Wilde — as if he’d just watched Ranga from Aavesham sob into his silk shirt after locking those ungrateful college boys in a house set for demolition. For those who missed it: Ranga, a gold-hearted gangster, realises his boys only stuck around for clout. We’ve all been Ranga at some point; hurt, confused, and wondering if friendship ever really meant forever. It’s funny, until it’s not because for many, that betrayal isn’t cinematic. It’s lived. What’s common is the collective grief of remembering that come in waves. Here, we analyse the anatomy of the fall of friendships, in chapters.
Chapter 1
Felt like forever
Suggested Listening: Mustafaa Mustafaa by AR Rahman
Many of these friendships began the way all good stories do — in classrooms, corridors, tuitions, and summer camps. For Narayani, it was two friendships: one formed in her school with N, her “pillar of support,” and another with C, her neighbour, with whom hours would pass effortlessly in the apartment playground. Krithika Srinivasan, a journalist, described a similar certainty in adulthood. “A roommate (female) soon turned out to be a good friend as we shared similar political understanding and general ways of life,” she said. For some, like Anjitha, it was a fairytale. A tuition buddy-turned-classmate-turned co-dreamer. “We promised we’d join the same school after class 10 and we did. It meant everything,” she said. Others, like Dahlia, found friendships rooted in shared vulnerabilities. They met their friend in school, “even wanted her to be the godmother of my kids if I chose to have any”, until the tides shifted.
Chapter 2
When things fall apart
Suggested Listening: Unfinished Hope by Govind Vasantha
The fallouts rarely had a cause. Some, like Mary’s, are resonated griefs. “My mother had a friendship she carried for 30 years,” she said, “and then one day, it ended — over opinions [religious differences].”
For others, friendships faded slowly. Sreepriya recalled how, in college, she would grow close to some friends while drifting from others. Though they eventually reconnected, the reason for the original distance remained vague — “a sign”, she said, of their teenage “immaturity.” Logesh experienced something similar with his childhood neighbour. They were once inseparable, but as their families’ social and economic differences grew, so did the unspoken discomfort. Class, gossip, and judgment about their closeness eventually created a quiet but lasting gap.
Politics and ideology also played a part in many breakups. Krithika’s friendship ended after she discovered the performative politics of certain friends. “I realised that she was not always mutual in terms of sharing what’s going on with her,” she said. Things worsened when she befriended other friends and left Krithika out. K, a law student, lost two groups of friends the same way — one over the ‘Depp v. Heard’ trial, and another when a group of Sangh supporters created a “shit-talk” group about him after learning he was left-leaning.
Shilpi, a barista, lost a close online friend after expressing transphobic views during what she called a brief “Alt-Right era.” She now sees her friend’s decision as “completely valid”, and wishes she could apologise for her past ignorance. Dahlia’s friend, once supportive, began making hurtful comments — and finally went on a transphobic rant. They cut her off immediately. That moment, they said, taught them that even a decade of friendship doesn’t guarantee safety. Kavipriya, a writer, ended a friendship when she realised her friend’s “privilege blindness” and “poverty porn” views were too harmful to ignore. “I didn’t need to wait for the last straw,” she said. Choosing herself no longer meant shrinking to make others feel comfortable. Miriam, a journalist says, " I realised that each person has a different background influencing their opinions and decisions. It's hit me hard that friendships can greatly influence the way you think and behave, even if it means sometimes you have to pretend."
Karthik also learned a hard lesson. When a male friend in his high school group broke up with a girl — who was also Karthik’s best friend — the rest of the boys cut him off for siding with her. That betrayal changed how he saw friendship, making him more conscious about who he let in.
Chapter 3
The unspoken heartbreak
Suggested Listening: Sundari Kannal bgm by Ilaiyaraaja
When a friendship ends, the grief is often as profound as a romantic breakup. For many, the emotional fallout is intense. Narayani, for example, had nightmares for years after her friendship with N ended. She described it as: “My Maths teacher haunting me. But it was her, the friend I lost.” Sai Sahana, who was ghosted by her friend, compared the void to the grief of losing a parent. She said, “I don’t have a mother. That void didn’t affect me much as a child. But this? This is different. It hurt.” The pain can leave you feeling alone, a sentiment echoed by Priya, an IT employee. She said, “You think you’re the only one but everyone’s carrying a friendship funeral in their chest.”
This deep-seated grief often manifests in a cascade of negative feelings and trust is frequently the first casualty. As Anjitha noted, the breakup “increased my sense of abandonment.” Priya, who was warned about her friend by others, now finds it difficult to trust anyone. She stated, “It brings your guards up.” K felt that the experience “aggravated” their insecurities, leaving them to “pre-determine” that newer people will also betray them. Sreepriya admitted, “I was suffering from self-doubt and trust issues” after her friendship ended. For Dahlia, losing her friend was so devastating that she said, “It felt like I couldn’t breathe for a good chunk of time. Like, such an important part of my life is missing.”
Chapter 4
Moving on
Suggested Listening: Preferably white noise to cut out the sounds in your head
Each person finds their own way to navigate this pain. Some, like Narayani, eventually took the step of blocking to stop the pain of seeing their lives move on. Others turn to creative outlets. One person confessed to writing about their friend “again and again” until the ache dulled. Dahlia found solace in therapy and queer spaces, which helped them realise they “deserved friendships that celebrate me.” Sai Sahana turned to music and books, though she admitted to feeling furious, she was also trying to fill that void on her own, and doesn’t plan to replace her friend, believing that “some roles stay empty.” Anjitha found her closure in a quiet moment of self-respect, realising her efforts were in vain. As Mary’s mother did, some eventually settle into a new reality without ever speaking of the old friendship again. Ultimately, this journey through grief is a powerful one, often leading to important lessons about self-worth, boundaries, and the true meaning of connection.
The hard-earned lessons go beyond just setting boundaries and makes people prioritise themselves. Sai Sahana summed it up best, “Before being there for others, I should’ve learned to be there for me.”
Acknowledgements
The ex-2am best friend who now sleeps early, the friend who is blocked everywhere but is still knowingly or unknowing paying for your Netflix, the eight-digit landline number’s owner whose name you can’t remember, and all the other martyrs of friendships.