We Don’t Talk Anymore
Maybe we don’t talk anymore. Maybe we never will. Or perhaps, maybe one day, it’ll be a fresh start. I truly have no idea of knowing where we’ll end up in a day, a week or a year.
Hi, we were friends, remember?
Your number was one I knew by heart. Your name was at the top of my text messages. A person I ran to, a person who knew me. Then it stopped.
I don’t find myself missing you as much as I used to. I’m genuinely happy for you when I see your face come up in an Instagram scroll. I often wonder though, do you miss me? A bittersweet feeling comes with it, like the taste of a red wine you’re not accustomed to, you like it but you don’t. It’s in those moments when the cracks begin to show. I feel the urge to reach out, have a ‘Hello’ moment and literally say hello.
Thankfully, I stop myself. I stop myself from opening up the opportunity for the same scars to have their stitches ripped open. I force the cracks to close and remind myself that it’s out of my hands, for better or worse. That’s not to say that you didn’t leave an impact on me because you did. The very reason that we were friends in the first place. That’s probably why some friends, even though time has passed, you know if you needed them, they’d still be there.
I’ve seen the range of relationships and how being away affected them. I see the invites I send out and the ones I get. I see that sometimes the investment I put in before, didn’t make it in the long run. I’m occasionally surprised by the ones that did make it and find myself with a sense of newness.
Maybe we don’t talk anymore. Maybe we never will. Or perhaps, maybe one day, it’ll be a fresh start. I truly have no idea of knowing where we’ll end up in a day, a week or a year.
But maybe that’s the point. Sometimes someone is in your life for a season. A season when they needed you or you needed them. But like all seasons, they end and a new one begins. 
