Imagine This

once upon a time

When you see the photograph, you remember the last time you had fun together. It wasn't anything particularly great but it went by quickly with the laughs and snapshots. Your hand hovers near the photo booth squares, intent on ripping it off the wall, but you stop. It doesn't matter that you don't speak anymore; it doesn't matter that she's changed completely and you've changed from knowing who your real friends are; what matters is that once upon a time, you two were close and shared a happy time. At some point, she stopped being that girl and changed into someone else but you moved on. It was funny how people became what they hated most, or created the thing that they feared the most. Because of those memories, you knew that even she didn't know what was going to happen although maybe something in your gut told you that it might happen one day. The warm flush of anger burns deep in your stomach faintly, that faint scar tugging irritably again. Then it morphes into the brief shade of sadness before gently sliding into disappointment. Maybe one day she'd change back, for a brief moment, like those Alzheimer's victims, and then someone would see it and love it as much as you did and they would gain a true friend, but you doubt it because you waited patiently for that phase to pass and it never did. You sigh as your hand slides back down to your side. Once upon a time she was someone else. Once upon a time she was your best friend. Funny how things change. Funny how people change.