We Have Been Together As Strangers Longer Than As Friends

I stand numb, staring into infinity, waiting for the nothingness to hit me. And when it finally hits, it is devastatingly satisfying, for I lost my friend. A friend I once called mine. I didn’t lose her to the divine supreme, but to the worldly wrongs.

I lost her to all other friends who told her I was not hers.

That goodbye as she said while standing at my doorstep didn’t feel a good one, it felt like a last one. That was the last time she was waving me bye as my best friend, as my dear one because now we were destined to be strangers.

I can no more call or text you whenever I want, because I know you would either not pick up or say that you are busy. I can’t just come over to your house and ask for a cup of coffee because I know you are now sharing that with someone else.

Likewise, I no longer have access to all your secrets and passwords because you changed them when you changed your best friend. We weren’t together as friends for long, but we have been together as strangers longer than that, and it hurts.

It hurts to see you going out with those people you once told me were so unimportant compared to me. It hurts to listen about you and your life from that third person who now boasts about being your best friend.

I am just a stranger

Not only that, but it hurts to know that now someone else knows you better than me and that I am just a stranger.

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Those two years when we were so close, those two years when you shared my mother’s sarcasm and I saved you from your father’s wrath, those two years when we were found always together, when we even skipped school together.

Those two years when we were our teachers’ favourite, those two years when we shared food and made lifelong memories, those two years when we promised to be each other’s bridesmaid and even rock the world while in rocking chairs, do you remember those two years?

Do you reminisce those good old days? Do you see our crazy pictures and wish I was there?

Do you feel what I feel?

I bear in my mind the day we first met as strangers. You had your school shirt in your hand, and you made people write for you while I waited for you to come to me for my signature and as I hoped and wished you came, but with all other names already on it.

That day I summed that my best friend has actually turned into a stranger, a stranger I would call to wish birthday and new year but not the one I would call to gossip about my family.

The stranger who would want my well-being and I would want hers, but we would no longer share those thoughts, a stranger I would happily have back in my life, but she would no longer be the best friend I adored, rather she would be the stranger who bid me not a goodbye.

Image source: Still from FilterCopy | Things Only Girl Best Friends Do

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