Talking to her today made me somehow reminisce about the past—the days we were together, the moments and memories we spent. It's like talking to an old friend who's no longer with us. It's sad to think and to tell her that the friends we had together in the past are now no longer talking to each other. I feel sad yet mad at the same time, wondering what really happened. Does time really matter that makes us break apart? I know to myself I've not moved on yet, but I also know that I'll get there. I'll get there as time passes by. Right now, I'm still healing from the scars. But slowly, I'm regaining myself through my new friends, who serve as my therapy. Whenever I'm with them, I feel a sense of belonging and being seen. With them, I can be myself—the free side of me. It's not long since we got to know each other, yet we are somehow connected to each other. I want to thank them for never failing to put a smile on my face even when I don't feel like it. I can say that I am happy I met them, and I'm happy when I'm with them—my 11.
