Trio friendships teach you the most about loyalty, communication, and insecurity. A trio can be beautiful, but it takes effort from all three people to make sure no one feels invisible.

Now, get under your blanket and read my ongoing journey of trio friendship. I will share every moment—my bad days, my happiness, my feelings of disrespect, my comfort, and everything in between. It might even bring tears to your eyes if you have ever been a member of a trio.

We are three, and we are enough for each other. Sometimes one person is not enough for anyone, and it’s me. I won’t say that I was just surviving in this friendship because I wasn’t the only one trying hard to hold it together. They both tried hard too, and believe me, they did.

From 1st to 5th standard, I always ended up with fake friends. They would leave after a few days, and I was such a fool because I thought they were my forever besties. Ahh, dumb me.

Then, in 7th standard, I met my forever besties accidentally one random day while sitting on the same bench. From that day, everything started. We ate lunch together, stood together in assembly, and were always side by side. I was the funniest one in the group—the dumb and silly one—but they loved my stupidity.

Time passed. We completed 8th grade and moved to 9th. That was when I realized that the bond between two people inside a trio is seriously deep.

I had a very special bond with one of them. We knew each other so well. We shared everything. She was like my cozy comfort bed. Haha. I called her “Chulula.” I love that nickname so much.

The other friend was someone with whom I shared everything too—literally everything. But I never gave her a nickname. I thought about it so much, but I couldn’t find one that suited her. So we called her “Peigon.” Yeah, funny.

I can’t explain how much I love them. My love for them is completely unconditional.

Chulula has my heart. She is my everything.

Whenever I think about our friendship during 9th grade, it brings tears to my eyes because, you know, the closest person to your heart can slowly become a distant person. She had other friends too, and low-key, I wasn’t as interesting anymore. Back then, I was the most talkative person in the whole group.

Peigon has such an adorable personality. Sometimes she felt like my second version.

Then came 10th grade.

Some changes happened, and the understanding between me and Chulula started fading. Chulula and Peigon became the best duo, and from then on, there was always a duo inside our trio.

We still enjoyed together, but Chulula stopped sharing things with me. She only shared a little. Peigon also started giving me less time. They probably don’t know it, but sometimes their actions hurt me like hell.

They are kind people, and whenever they realize they’ve hurt me, they feel sorry. But how could I tell them they were hurting me? And how could they know if I never said it?

Days passed, and they built such a beautiful understanding with each other—the same understanding I once had with Chulula and sometimes with Peigon too.

Most of all, I was connected to Chulula. She was my comfort place. I loved hearing about her routine, her sad stories, her breakdowns, and whenever she asked for my advice or opinion, I felt like the luckiest person in the world. I felt important.

But I slowly lost that.

They don’t really share anything with me anymore. At least, that’s how it feels.

Still, sometimes their company heals me. Whenever all three of us are together—not as a duo and a third person, but as a trio—I heal some of my old wounds. I start believing again that they could never forget me, that I will always be important to them.

But maybe I was wrong.

On the last day of school, everyone was exchanging TBHs and autographs with their friends to keep those memories forever.

Chulula gave Peigon a heartfelt letter, and Peigon gave one to Chulula. Chulula even wrote in her diary, “She was jealous of every person she talked to, even if that person was me.”

They both laughed.

For the first time in three years, I felt uncomfortable.

If she had said it to both of us, maybe it would’ve hurt less. But I felt jealous because she was once my arm-to-arm buddy, and now it felt like she didn’t even remember me that way.

I smiled and asked, “Can you write a TBH for me too?”

She said, “Yeah, why not?”

She wrote half a page and said with laugh, “I don’t know what to write.”

Meanwhile, she had written three or four pages in her diary for Peigon.

I can’t explain how much that hurt. My mood instantly dropped.

I know she didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s not her fault. Everyone finds their favorite person, and that’s okay. I would never complain about it.

Then the school bell rang.

Peigon suddenly said, “Oh, I haven’t written your TBH yet.”

For the past twenty minutes, she had been busy writing Chulula’s TBH.

She grabbed my diary and started writing while standing on the stairs. We walked through the corridor while she wrote. They were talking to each other while she focused on how to write mine.

In about five or six minutes, she finished one page.

But I wasn’t happy.

Not because of the page, but because it didn’t feel written from the heart.

She didn’t notice that.

I know she didn’t.

Because I always look for importance. I always look for respect. And in that moment, I didn’t feel either of those things.

Still, it’s not her fault.

Friendships have ups and downs.

But it hurt me every single time.

I would always remind myself that I was lucky. At least they weren’t fake friends. At least they weren’t selfish. I had so many beautiful memories with them.

And sometimes they did feel sorry for leaving me out.

So I respected them, and I loved them.

Time passed.

Our friendship still exists today.

We went to the same school, the same college, but now we are in different universities.

Even though we are apart, our bond is still strong.

We have worked hard to maintain this friendship. We solve misunderstandings and try to keep peace between us.

Sometimes we meet once a year, sometimes after six months. Sometimes we chat and send reels.

But distance changes things.

People get busy.

People lose the mood to talk.

Still, I always thought that taking five minutes out of your day isn’t a big deal.

I was always the one checking up on them first. But sometimes it felt like they showed zero interest. Maybe that’s not true. I hope it’s not. But every time I tried, the replies felt dry. I love chatting with emojis because they show effort and interest. But they never understood that. So I stopped using them too because I felt stupid.

Eventually, I accepted that maybe I’m not that important to them.

Maybe they don’t remember me the way I remember them.

Maybe they don’t think about me the way I think about them.

Because I do all of that.

My diary pages are full of them.

My notes are full of them.

My laptop is full of them.

I accepted that I am probably the dumb one. Once, Chulula jokingly called me dumb. I know she didn’t mean to hurt me. She is genuinely kind.

But it still hurt.

I noticed something else too.

They understand each other so well.

They have the same interests and endless topics to talk about.

Whenever I’m alone with Chulula, we sit quietly.

Whenever I’m alone with Peigon, it’s almost the same.

But when the two of them are together, they laugh, talk, and enjoy themselves.

And I start feeling boring.

That’s when I think:

Maybe I will always be the third person.

Maybe I will always be the second choice, never the first.

But here’s the twist.

I always followed Chulula.

I copied her assignments, her hobbies, and her interests.

She loved K-dramas, so I started watching K-dramas.

She loved English songs and actors, so I started following them too.

Because whenever I will sit with her alone, we will have the same topics to talk about.

Till now, they ignore me sometimes—maybe most of the time. Chulula ignores my messages and leaves them on seen. It depends on her mood whether she replies or just leaves them unread for days. She often ghosts my reels and WhatsApp messages. Sometimes she sees them and leaves them for 3–4 days before replying. I am always confused about why she does that. I have complained about it before, but it always feels like I’m overreacting. Somehow, it feels like it’s all my fault, as if I’m the guilty one.

And sometimes she console me she heals me with her love, she gives the best opinion and always listen my problems and courage me, comforts me with her words and never judge me.

Peigon once said that everyone ignores me. Maybe she felt sorry for me, but I felt embarrassed. Why would my best friend pity me?

I don’t know, but sometimes I feel like Peigon thinks I’m just a free person with no value. No matter what happens, I am always nice to everyone, and maybe that’s why people take it for granted.

And beside that, My heart wants nothing more than to meet them, sit beside them, and talk about everything. But the fear of being left out stops me every time. I’m scared that they’ll get lost in their own conversation while I sit there in silence, feeling invisible. I’m scared of that familiar awkwardness, that feeling of not belonging.

Because the truth is, I don’t really know what’s going on in their lives anymore. They rarely share anything with me. Meanwhile, they both know everything about each other. They gossip, laugh, and then say things like, “You tell her,” or “Should I tell her?”—and the “her” is me. Every time they do that, it makes me feel like I’m not really a part of them. Like I’m an outsider listening to two people who share a world that I no longer belong to.

If you don’t want to tell me something, that’s completely okay. But saying things like “you tell her” or “should I tell her?” right in front of me makes me feel like a stranger. And honestly, it hurts me like hell.

And if I end up feeling like the third person again, I know it will break my heart and ruin my entire day.

I never complain about the things that hurt my feelings. I just swallow my pain, my disappointment, and every moment of disrespect, and no one ever knows about it.

Somewhere along the way, I lost myself.

I was always chasing the feeling of being chosen.

Wanting someone to talk to me.

Wanting someone to show interest.

Wanting respect.

And then I learned something:

THE PERSON IS NOT WRONG. YOU ARE JUST EXPECTING TOO MUCH FROM THEM.

And you’ve probably heard this before:

“The closest person can give you the deepest wounds, but they can also be the one who heals them.”

One lesson I have learned from all of this is: don't be too nice.

It’s my biggest mistake: being too nice.

Don’t be too nice. Trust me.

Stand up for yourself. Believe in yourself. Never let anyone disrespect you, and most importantly, never disrespect yourself.

If you know your worth and set your boundaries, people are less likely to ignore you.

Trust me.

That’s it :)

And despite everything, I genuinely love them so much.

I love them like heaven and like hell.

They have supported me, encouraged me, wiped away my tears, and stood beside me through so much.

They are my everything but, i will never be their first Priority.

Ummah. 🤍

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