Last summer, I saw you on my way home from work.
Before I could even think about it, I was suddenly by your side and saying hi to you. You seemed shocked and greeted me back, saying off-handedly about meeting up later on for a proper meal. I half-heartedly agree and then we part ways.
We never followed up and we never had that meal.
That was over six months ago.
I texted you a couple of times over the course of those six months but the conversation was dry and we never continued for over ten messages. After the last time I texted you, I stared at the blinking cursor, taunting me as I tried to think of what else I could say. You seemed disinterested, judging by the things that you sent me.
I send messages to other people and your chat box gets pushed down, so that I won’t see it and get tempted to text you.
I watched a video last night and it reminded me of you. I thought about how we used to spend every day together, just talking. Sometimes we would talk in person, other times we would talk over a voice chat, or through text. We would be talking constantly.
I thought of you as one of my best friends. Maybe you thought of me as one of yours, too.
In the past, every time you sent me message, it felt as if my night sky lit up with stars. Now, we don’t talk anymore, and I am lost at sea.
Your posts show up on my timeline sometimes, or you come up in conversation that I have with other people. It’s interesting how, even though you are no longer physically in my life, you are everywhere around me.
I remember the night you messaged me in the middle of nowhere, asking me if I wanted to go walk with you around the racecourse. I did not hesitate and agreed.
As far as I can remember, you were beautiful. Still the strong, independent girl that I fell in love with a few years ago. But even then, things had changed. I did not reach for you, and you did not reach for me.
Whenever I pass the racecourse now, I think about that night. It was one of the last times we had a proper conversation. I think about how I should have tried to reach for your hand. I know you would have rejected me, like so many times before, but I just wanted to show you that I was still there for you.
Now, there’s no space for me to be anywhere.
You have your friends, new and old, and all them have their place in your life. I am no longer in the picture. I don’t have a place in your life.
I think about the empty space you left in mine. A gaping hole, right by my side. I am sad about that, but I am happy too. You were in my life before and it is better than you having never been.
When I first met you, I could tell you were lonely. You let me help you and I felt like it was important for me to remind you that you aren’t alone. It took you two years, but I still remember the first day you let me help you. Your hand was small in mine and your tears were wet on my shoulder. That was almost six years ago, now.
But things have changed and you are no longer by my side. We don’t walk home together after school. We don’t talk until it’s four in the morning. We don’t play Left 4 Dead. We don’t share a lunch box. We don’t work in the art room until eight.
I can still feel your hand in mine. I can still hear your laugh in my mind.
I miss you.
I wonder if you miss me too?
You are seared in my memory forever. The good and the bad. Everything that we’ve been through. I just hope that you remember me too.
But you are never the type to look back. You look like you’ve moved on, so maybe I should really give it an earnest go this time, too.