And suddenly endless phone calls turned into two blue ticks.
"If you stay at the dorms over the weekend I'll come back one day earlier" turned into "Why should I stay when I can drive home?"
"I get you, you're so strong" into "Why aren't you just driving home over the weekend?"

But all this is not about the hours we talked on the phone. Neither it's about all the time we spend in that shitty little fast-food restaurant. And it's not about the nights we stayed awake until it was too late to go to bed either.
It's about the conversations about things we never told anyone and maybe will never tell anyone else. It's about the connection we had. We could always understand each other. Not because we had the same problems but because we went through similar situations.
I just don't get what happened. Why he went home, realized he had nice friends there and didn't need me anymore. That's just hard. But I can't even blame him. I get it so much, that's the worst.
I get him, but I'm still not giving up. After talking to him for a minute I could see through his mask. Maybe I get him and his thoughts more than he wants. And that's a friendship you can't just give up.