They told him that friendship wasn’t about who you had known the longest, but who had came and never left your side. There’s one exception to every rule though, isn’t there?
She was that exception. He could count the months on one hand that he had known her, that she had stood by him, but it was enough. And after that, she simply left.
Because that was how she was. She drifted from place to place, life to life, changing everything. In the short time he had known her, she had been there for only one event. One life-changing event that destroyed his heart and his life. But she was there and she stood by him and she helped him rebuild it all.
And then she left.
She left.
She left town. She left him. She left his side, never to return.
So people thought she wasn’t a real friend. People thought that he was better off without her. In truth, he wasn’t, but everyone else was. Because for every life she rebuilt, there would be another waiting, and she would never hesitate to continue on doing whatever it was she did.
Deep in his heart, it hurt. But he wasn’t the first, and he wasn’t the last.
Sometimes, she’d knock on the door and spend the day with him. They rarely reminisced, but instead made new memories in the miniscule amount of time they had.
Other times, he’d get a letter, or sometimes a call. The letters were nearly always hand-delivered, but when he stuck a head out the door, she was already gone. If the letters were delivered by post, they were always from some exotic country in Asia or Europe or sometimes Africa. And the calls? He had come to realise she used payphones.
And then there were those rare days, where the sun shone despite its massive struggle through the clouds and a cool breeze blew and he swore he heard their names, his and hers, intertwined upon it, and he could feel it in his soul.
He knew she was doing her job.
He knew he would always love her.
He knew that one day, he too would be a drifter.
#~#~#~#~#~#~
I don’t know, I kind of want to turn this into a book. Thoughts?
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A Little Book of One-Shots
Teen FictionI'm an amazing procrastinator. FACT. I'm horrific at time management. FACT. None of my ideas will ever be completed unless they're purposefully left unfinished. FACT (most of the time). I love that cover. FACT.
