I remember her in a bittersweet way, loving the way our memories intertwine like stitches. Covering a wound and healing it.
I remember seeing her for the first time, my best friend and i introduced ourselves. We were both a bit strange, in an enjoyable way of course. An abrupt meeting and i remember her the way i remember all the things in my life that have caused me pain, at night with tears in my eyes.
We didn't talk much in primary school, we became friends but we weren't the closest. There was always something that made me hesitate, something foreign about her that almost scared me. I still don't know what it was, or if it was a warning. Maybe it was just what it seemed like, just a feeling.
High school was when we grew closer, i find it strange that we became friends really. I think that simply being familiar, or just riding the same bus everyday. Deep down, i always felt like she didn't really like me and i knew she'd be friends with someone else if it convenienced her. That feeling stayed, even as we grew closer. As if i had to be careful, not to be too weird. To never be too much of myself.
She was there for me, i remember that much. She was a good friend, but things later felt coarse. I didn't really like her friends, the way she was around them. But i longed for those late night phone calls and good moments. I find myself forgetting those more and more. I try to clutch on to those memories but I'm not the same person she knew, we changed. Things changed. And it is a connection of sorts, that slowly broke under the weight of all the things we refused to say. All we promised, all we understood.
I don't know how to finish this book now, because I don't know her. I remember her less and less, the little things.
I can't remember her favorite colour or what her room used to look like. I don't know what her voice sounds like and i can't recall why she liked that song so much. The one we would talk about, for hours. Trying desperate in an attempt to understand, what it meant.
But she isn't lost in my mind, i still remember that she doesn't write sentences with commas. But i don't remember why. It is a thought that keeps me awake some nights.
I no longer know what that feeling is, the shared emotion. I know what it used to be. I used to love her, the way you love watching fireworks. The way you admire people of great renound. I do this sometimes, when i want to get under someones skin. I want to understand, to touch the edges of her soul.
We all want to connect. To make something... well, memorable. And if you've ever lost a friend, no matter the way. From a falling out or other, then you know the way things feel. Everything feels like you're looking through glass, never seeing anything clear.
Never getting there, never feeling anything. Just remembering what it used to feel like. Unable to reach out and touch those memories, unable to feel anything. So i move on, and when we talk now it's different. I hesitate. I don't want to tell you things, about my life. I don't think i trust you anymore. I don't think i can call our friendship one with love anymore.
And i don't say it to spite you, that's the last thing i want to do. I just feel it, our past fading behind us. And i look back. I remember. It hurts.
But i look back, on photos. Videos. Do you remember?
I still have one of the videos of that scary movie we tried to make at the park. You look so strange with long hair.
I have old messages, back when we used to text.
I have pictures of you before highschool. Those videos we took on the bus. Recordings of all the jokes we made, all the things we said. All the best and worse times.
I have proof.
That there was something! That we had something. That hole in your bathroom door, that shirt i always left at yours that has paint all over it. Those old ass one directon memes you used to send me.
I have the uncertainty of whether or not you actually did leave your jeans here.
I have dreams, i have things i only told you.
This is all, i have left of you.
And ya know, whenever i get the bus home. I find myself sitting in our seat. That one that we didn't even know was our seat, and i don't sit next to the window when i do. I find myself leaving room for you. Even though...
And at the bus stop, we used to sit near the end. Do you know why? Why i always wanted to sit there. The reason's actually kinda stupid.
It because, you can see the bus coming from there.
And the other day, something happened that ignited me. Made me write in this book again, while walking past that church i started walking the wrong way. I even saluted that dumb sign, you know the one. But it was only seconds before i caught myself, before i remembered that i wasn't going that way. That you don't even live there anymore.
Maybe I'm stupid, maybe you don't remember.
Even if you do, don't tell me.
I don't wanna know.
