The friend who never replies either, the friend abroad, the new baby, the bereavement, the group chat, and when messages are genuinely hard

Some situations change the method, and this chapter takes them in turn.

The friend who never replies either. You send the line and nothing comes, or a line comes a month later. The rule is the same. Two lines when theirs arrives, however late, and no surcharge on them either. What you don't do is keep a count, because that's the turn returning. If a friend goes quiet for good after two or three lines from you, chapter 9 applies from their side and it's not your business to fix. You've kept the door open. Some people don't come through it, and a fond, quiet name on the list is a fine outcome.

The friend abroad. Time zones make the reply-on-arrival rule awkward, because their evening is your night. Reply when you read it anyway, they'll see it in their morning, and messages don't mind waiting once they're sent. The pick-up for a friend abroad is the same, one thing or a date, and the date is a call, because the room is a screen. Twenty minutes on a Sunday every couple of months holds a friendship across the world better than a proper reply a year.

The new baby. Theirs or yours. If theirs, they're not reading the open message as anything, because they're not reading. Send lines anyway and expect nothing back for months. A line a fortnight that needs no answer is exactly what someone with a newborn wants from a friend. If yours, chapter 10. You've no hours and you've a minute, and the minute keeps the friends for the year when the hours come back.

The bereavement you left too long. You didn't write when their dad died, because you didn't know what to say, and now it's been three months and writing would draw attention to the silence. Write. "I've been useless and I'm sorry. I've thought about you a lot. How are you doing?" This is the one place in the book where sorry belongs, once, and then the question. Three months late is welcome. Three years late is welcome. Never is the only thing that isn't.

The group chat. A group with forty unread messages isn't an open message and doesn't need a reply. Mute it if it's noise, and don't feel you owe it anything. What it can hide is the one message in it that was for you, a question with your name on it, and that one is a friend's message and gets two lines like any other. Reply to the person, not the group, if the group is too loud.

When messages are genuinely hard. For some people the open message isn't a standard. It's one of dozens of small things that don't get done, alongside the form and the appointment and the keys. The NHS lists being easily distracted or forgetful, finding it hard to organise your time and finding it hard to finish tasks among the signs of ADHD in adults, and says that if the symptoms are affecting your work or relationships, to see a GP about what support is available. If that's you, the rule still helps, because reply-on-arrival removes the remembering, but a rule isn't support, and it's worth asking for the support. And if any contact makes you anxious, so that the open message is frightening rather than heavy, the earlier book Go anyway is about that and starts further back than this one.

If none of these is you but you've stopped answering everyone and it comes with feeling low most days for weeks, the preface said to see a GP, and I'll say it again here.