signed, yours

a letter to a friend that I don't know anymore

look at me now, i’m doing so well.

i’m smiling freely and i’ve learnt how to say no (and more importantly i’ve learnt how to say yes).

i’m passionate again, i think you’d be proud.

you always told me i had greatness inside of me, and i think im starting to discover the things you knew all along.

i’m not scared of my own shadow anymore, in fact i think the glimpses in the mirror are almost pretty now.

you always told me so, but i didnt believe you back then.

i have so many friends, just like i always wanted.

you only knew the deflated little lonely version of me.

kicked and defeated.

but i’m not like that anymore.

if by some stroke of luck we ran into each other one day, would you even recognize me?

we both grew up so fast, which is funny because we used to think that time crept by so slowly.

now i wish it would slow down, and i bet you probably feel the same way…

it’s a shame we fell out of touch.

it was always bound to happen, of course.

we knew that.

but still, as a child i always secretly hoped we’d continue to live this strange and uncanny life side by side.

but of course, you moved away and then eventually so did i.

we tried to call and text to keep it up but i think we both knew it would die out eventually.

the last time we talked you told me about a girl you were seeing, and i told you about a boy i liked.

digital conversations that could never convey the admiration we had for each other.

if we talked again i’m not sure what id say, its been such a long time.

id probably say something like: look at me now, i’m doing so well.

and you would say: we made it.

and for a moment every little piece of this broken world would fall perfectly into place.