Laid back days where we sat in the sun, got ready for parties and watched each other grow up. There’s something much more romantic and intimate about the relationship you have with your best friend when you’re fifteen than a ‘high school relationship’: you create a bond that can be broken like a ruler yet there will still the plastic shards remaining on the floor to symbolize what there once was.
Saying goodbye to these friends are inevitable, your both so busy finding yourself to pay attention to the people you hurt in the process. I would always blame her, my best friend of fifteen. i would always put her needs before mine and she was never satisfied with that, she would always want more. More friends, more danger and more excitement. I wanted these things as well but not at the cost to which we paid. Unlike her i wasn’t in a hurry to grow up. Maybe it was our gender differences, im gay but im still a boy, a boy that could never understand her like any female friend could. Maybe we got lost in translation and began saying all the wrong things to each other, mistaking kisses for knives.
Regardless of kisses of knives we lost each other. I still hear stories of her now: her long term boyfriends broke up with her and she’s been keeping in poor health. I don’t miss her in the way im longing to be her friend again, i miss her because the memories look so golden in the light now she’s allowed it to shine on them.