I think about you. It might not be very often, it might be a flash of association out of the blue. Or it might be frequently, even daily. Either way, you're there. Because once upon a time, we were close.
If there was a time when we interacted regularly with each other, a time when we chatted or shared deep thoughts or joked around in the comments section, I haven't forgotten that time. I haven't forgotten the feeling of closeness, the sense of mutuality and affection. When I think of you, I miss that. And whenever a meaningful interaction passes between us again, all that joy fires up undiminished.
Somehow we stopped talking as much. It wasn't anybody's fault, just... life. Your name surfaced to mind with a whisper of regret for the growing silence.
I wonder if the connection has gone away, if it's one-sided. I wonder if you wonder the same thing. For me, the dormant friendships have never gone away, not for real. You never stopped being important to me. There's a little place in my mind that means you. Specific things, days, memories that are associated with you. Even when other friends stepped into your role in my life, they could never replace you, because your own, distinct personality fingerprint remains implanted in my mind.
I wish I could be that close to you again, all the time. No matter what. But because life is weird, and time is limited, and we all become adults and diverge into our own hectic paths, know that I haven't forgotten, and you haven't stopped mattering to me, and you never will.
Know that I mean every inch of my caps-lock riddled reply to your first announcement in forever. Know that I buzz with excitement when you revive an old nostalgic thread with "Do you remember..." Know that I love you even when I don't know what to say, and when I fumble through posts like these that seem like a stilted version of all that's on my mind.
Sincerely,
a twenty-year-old, overly affectionate, too-sappy-for-her-own-better-judgment hopeless romantic who can't wait for eternity when (presumably) we won't have to stress about losing touch with our friends
YOU ARE READING
Verity's Book 2.0
RandomBecause I'm the worst at coming up with inventive titles... New random book. Mostly the same stuff. I'm a hectically busy girl adjusting to the perks of adulthood (buying your own personal block of cheese at the store, amirite?) and enthusing over t...