New Year's Noise.

Here’s the consequence first: when communication becomes static, the relationship degrades.. even if the words look polite on the surface.

Sometime last year, I told you about my falling out with Michelle, my friend from college. Time passed. Space was taken. January 1st arrived.

I sent a simple message over WhatsApp: "Happy New Year. Wishing you peace and joy for the incoming year. "

No hooks. No subtext. Just goodwill.

What came back wasn’t a response, it was noise.

She sent a message. Deleted it. What remained was a single question mark.

And that mark matters.

A question mark without a question isn’t curiosity; it’s displacement. It pushes the labor of meaning onto the other person. You figure it out. You guess what I feel. You fix what I won’t name.

I didn’t respond.

Not out of spite—but out of clarity.

This has always been the pattern. I’m expected to intuit, decode, and apologize for something I didn’t do.

Let me be precise: I did nothing wrong.

Wanting to be a friend is not a violation. Offering peace is not aggression. And refusing to play emotional charades is not cruelty.

Michelle has anxiety issues, real ones. But anxiety explains behavior; it does not excuse impact. When someone decides they no longer want to be a friend, the burden to repair does not rest with the person who stayed open.

January 1st is about thresholds. You either step forward or you don’t.

I attempted to open a door. What I received was a flicker of indecision and an abrupt halt. That doesn’t invite connection; it ends it.

So I wished her well and kept my silence.

Because here’s the pattern worth naming: when people feel like victims of their own choices, they often manufacture ambiguity to avoid accountability. Noise feels safer than truth.

I don’t engage with noise