I remember when we were friends.
We would talk on the phone everyday. Our conversations endless, our topics senseless. We would squabble over our favorite songs and talk about the latest gossip about the people we know.
We would fight over the silliest things and makeup after an hour of realizing that there was no point in arguing. We were easily the best of friends, but the smallest things could just as quickly send us bickering.
In our group, you were the social butterfly and I was the wallflower. You would encourage me to come out of my shell and introduce me to tons of people that intimidated me.
“She’s my best friend,” you would say.
I would shyly smile, not even managing to say anything socially acceptable. But deep down I was happy. It was a difficult period of growing up, and finding someone who would accept me for who I was—acne, glasses and all—was a challenge. However, I was lucky to have that someone.
When I’d rather be left alone, you’d sit beside me and try to make me talk. You were the only one who would try to get to know me behind all the silly smiles and boisterous laughs. For the first time, I found someone who I could talk to about all my petty worries and likes and dislikes. The secrets I kept to myself spilled out like they’d been waiting to be freed for the longest time.
But life happens, and time and distance got the better of us. We were once friends and ended up us strangers. No fight ensued. There was just silence that reigned over.
On most days I don’t think about you at all. Like you, I also have a life to live and I have made friends the way I never thought possible. Then there are days when I’m tempted to contact you, especially on days when I just need someone to listen. Sometimes, I still want to hear your opinion on nonsensical things.
These days, I rarely miss you. Then something will offset the emotion I can only associate to the sadness of friends falling out for simply growing out of each other.
I scroll past your Facebook photos, often wondering if you’re still the girl who wear her heart on her sleeves.
I often wonder if you still bear your problems as if you can’t have someone else to carry it with you. I wonder if you still make friends as easily as putting on your favorite sweater, still get hurt over the littlest criticisms, still take to heart the smallest compliments. I wonder if you’re still the first person to step up and be a friend to someone.
I wonder how you are, I wonder if you’re happy.
One of these days I will have the courage to reach out and talk to you. One of these I will casually ask how you’ve been the past few years.
I doubt we’ll revert to the old ways. We definitely won’t have tearful reunion, and we’ll probably skip sleepovers, giggling on our pillows while talking about the boys we like. But we will start anew, and I can only hope it takes off well, and it reaches far.
Some friendships last a lifetime, and I’d like to think that ours is just taking a break.