happy birthday It’s been nine years since we last spoke. It’s so strange to me that you only live 30 minutes away. It might as well be the other side of the world. I know you still work in town, with some of my friends even. And that occasionally when your name comes up, and I mention that I know you, they look surprised. Subconsciously even they recognize how far apart our worlds are now. I know you sometimes go to lunch with my brother. I can never ask anything beyond that. I don’t want details; I don’t want to feel betrayed. He has the right to still be friends with you. I know you have a family now. I hope you are good to all of them. That the darkness is far away, and you don’t speak to them the way you spoke to me. I hope you’re not still bitter. I could never tell what you wanted. I’m not the best at assuming anything unspoken. You were never the best at saying anything out loud. In the end I knew you were upset with me, but I was just so tired of the games that it was easier to play polite and drift apart than to try and figure out what it was you really wanted. Maybe it was me you wanted. Maybe it was trying to figure out a way for our friendship to still work while life moved on. I don’t really know. You really were one of my closest friends. I still wish all the best for you. And I wish there was a way that we could have remained close into adulthood, marriage, parenting... but it didn’t seem healthy, not for either of us. Happy Birthday, birthday buddy. I hope you found your joy. 9:28 a.m. - 2018-05-26 |
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