I saw my old best friend today.
We were close from when we were three until when we were nine, and then slowly drifted into the space of ‘just a friend’ and then into ‘just a nothing’. I moved schools, then I moved towns, and then everything didn’t fit anymore.
But I saw her again today. She didn’t even seem to recognise me. And it made me think – what’s gone on in her life since I last talked to her, face to face? It must have been eight, nine years, maybe even more. We’ve both grown up now. We probably wouldn’t get along anymore.
It’s like something’s been cut out of my life. Nevermind all the other people I’ve lost, because I was once so close to this girl that knowing that she probably doesn’t know what I look like anymore actually, physically hurts.
And is it right for me to be angry at her? For changing so much? For forgetting about all the time we used to spend climbing trees and talking about… Whatever it was that five-year-olds talked about?
I reconnected with my old next door neighbour, and that was one of the best feelings in the world. I’m in regular contact with my closest friend from my second primary school, and the girl I always used to hang around with in year six.
It’s not something I should dwell over, really. I shouldn’t feel so betrayed by someone that shouldn’t have to care about me.
It’s the small things that mean a lot. That small narrowing of your eyes like – ‘yes, I see you, I know who you are’. Staring at me oddly because of something I’m doing, or have done, that’s gone against the person you thought me to be.
I’ve had a long time to think on things. And I’m happy with the decisions I’m made, and the people I’ve chosen to surround myself with in my life. But that doesn’t change the fact that there are a million tiny moments of my life that I will never get back, or get to relive or do again.