Two years inside.
Twenty years known.
And still, they vanish.
By the time you’re two years in, you stop expecting anyone to answer.
Not because you’ve stopped caring, but because you’ve learned what the silence means.

You’re the one watching the phone minutes tick away.
You’re the one checking the hall for a letter that never comes.
Outside, people tell themselves they’re “staying out of it.”
What they’re really doing is choosing the safe option.

The Slow Disappearance

It’s not like a film. There’s no dramatic goodbye. It’s quieter. More cowardly. At first, you make excuses for them. They’re busy. They’re awkward. They’ll write at the weekend. But two years is not “busy.” Two years is a choice.

One mate stops answering calls but still watches your family’s stories online. Another says, “Aye mate, I’ll come through,” then months pass. Someone you’d have trusted with your life changes their number and never tells you.

The worst ones are those who were always “skint” when it suited them. The ones who called you “brother” when they needed a tenner, a lift, or their leccy topped up. Back then, you were their best mate. Now, they can’t manage five minutes for a phone call.

Reputation Management

Here is the truth: Most people don’t cut you off because they believe you’re guilty. They cut you off because they don’t want to be the person at work who says, “I’m still speaking to him.” They don’t want the group chat drama. They don’t want to be deemed “unsafe” for failing to perform the correct amount of outrage. So they disappear and call it morals.

They outsource their judgment to the system so they don’t have to think:

• Police involved? Must be something there.
• It went to court? Must be evidence.
• Guilty verdict? Must be true.

Twenty Years Cancelled

This is what does your head in. These people have known you for decades. They’ve seen you drunk, stressed, angry, and happy. If you were truly the monster the headline describes, they’d have seen it. They’d have seen it in how you spoke, how you behaved, and how you treated partners when nobody was watching.

Yet, twenty years of history is wiped out in twenty minutes by a story they heard second-hand.

To the People Outside

If it’s a mate, someone you’ve known for years, you’ll feel that flash of fear. You’ll worry what it says about you if you answer the call.

That’s normal, but it doesn’t excuse disappearing. You don’t need to shout anything. You don’t need to defend anyone in public. You don’t need to post. Just don’t vanish.

Because two years of silence isn’t confusion. It’s a choice. And that choice says more about you than it does about them.

That’s the real test. Not of guilt. Of character.

This piece was developed through extensive conversations with many individuals in Scotland who are currently fighting to prove their innocence. While their legal battles vary, their emotional ones are often identical. We have gathered their shared experiences and rolled them into this reflection, hoping it captures the true weight of being abandoned by those you once called friends.

You are not the only one hearing the silence.