Years down the line, you’d think about her, about the friendship that you shared, about the songs that you sang. Maybe you would look at your friends and miss the energy that she carried in her messy bun. Then you would maybe, look her up on Insta, see her photo and remember how she would do anything to make you happy.
Maybe you’d remember the countless fights every second you had with her. And then you would drop her a text, trying to rekindle what you lost. You’d tell her you never made bestfriends after her, but you’d not know that you had altered her definition of bestfriends. You’d tell her that you were a child, that you couldn’t understand what was happening and how you wanted her in your life.
Her fingers would however over the keyboard, struggling with the feelings, your name reminding her of the torture she had to endure, the dark place that you left her in.
She couldn’t still comprehend why that happened, why you left but she knows, because of you to not get attached to someone again and when she feels she is getting attach, her walls build up caging her where you left her.
But oh no no, don’t think she needs you either, she politely tells you fudge away for she knows, you didn’t come because you were sorry, you came because you had no one to go to.