It took me eight months
to notice.
None of my friendships ended. Nobody fell out. The group chat just got slower, then stopped. And one day I worked out I hadn't properly spoken to my closest friend since the spring.
Khushwin, in Seattle. Cinnamon bun unrelated.
I tried the obvious fixes. A standing call that got moved twice and then quietly disappeared. A shared album nobody posted in. Sending memes into the void, because a meme is easier than saying I miss you.
The problem was never that we'd stopped caring. It's that someone always has to go first, at the wrong hour, with nothing particular to say. And "hey, how are you?" after eight months is a genuinely hard message to send.
The moment I actually noticed was stupidly small. She posted a photo of her kitchen and there was a different kettle in it. I didn't know she'd moved. Not a fight, not a falling out. I just hadn't been in the room for any of it, and there was no single day I could point at where I'd left.
There was never a day we stopped being close. That's exactly what made it impossible to notice.
What Orbit is
Every other app is a channel, somewhere to leave a message and hope it gets answered. But a quiet friendship isn't short of channels. You already have four ways to reach them. What's missing is a reason that doesn't require either of you to be brave first.
So Orbit gives you both the same small question, timed for when you're both likely awake. You both answer. Neither of you sees the other's until you've both replied. No going first, no performing, nobody left on read. Then it opens together, like a gift.
The questions are deliberately small on purpose. Not "what's new" but what did you eat, what's your view right now, what nearly made you text me this week. Small enough to answer honestly in thirty seconds, specific enough that the answer tells you something a monthly catch-up never would. Enough of them and you know what someone's life is actually like again.
If any of that sounds familiar (the person you keep meaning to message, the thread you've reread twice and still not answered), Orbit was built for exactly that.
Orbit is free. All of it.
Not free-with-an-asterisk. No premium tier holding your memories hostage, no paywall on a second friend, no "upgrade to unlock." Every feature, for everyone, forever.
The reason is simple: the moment you charge per friend, people start rationing who they stay close to. That's the exact opposite of the point. If Orbit ever needs money to survive, I'll say so plainly and ask. I won't quietly make the free version worse.
What Orbit will never do
Your friendships are not inventory. There will never be a brand in the middle of a reveal.
Not to advertisers, not to data brokers, not to "partners". Your answers are between the two of you.
No notification storms, no infinite feed, no dark patterns engineered to keep you scrolling.
Miss a week and nothing is taken from you. Orbit counts the good days and forgets the quiet ones.
It's early, and I'd rather say so
Orbit is in open beta. There will be rough edges. iPhone runs through TestFlight for now, which means you're getting builds before the App Store does. If something breaks, or a prompt lands wrong, tell me. You can reach me directly at hello@heyorbit.me, and I read all of it. More about me at khush.win.
Who are you missing?
Start with one person. That's the whole thing.
Bring the friend you miss most