dear ex best friend.

dear ex best friend,

“why, why, why?”

“what did i do?”

“why did she cut me off?”

these thoughts often run through my mind like a shinkansen (Japanese bullet train) everytime i see your face, your tweets or even the slightest mention of your name. it doesn’t just run through my mind once,

sometimes twice,

sometimes it doesn’t leave my mind all night.

i remember those days after my major exam when i was free as a bird and had nothing to do, jobless, nothing to study, nothing to do. just nothing. you would constantly occupy my mind as i would lay there with guilt. guilt for what?

i dont know.

that’s the thing.

dear ex best friend,

what did i do? why wouldn’t you tell me? why wouldn’t you answer my texts with honesty so at least we both wouldn’t have to live like this. or well, maybe it’s just me. 

maybe you’re fine. maybe i don’t even cross your mind. maybe i’m not even worth your time.

did we mean nothing?

did those times we joked around and had each other’s backs mean nothing? did those times where we would sneak around school mean nothing? did those times when we cried to each other over the pettiest things mean nothing?

dear ex best friend,

the chance of you reading this is slim. slimmer than the shadow of a hair, slimmer than the mist. but i want you to know, you really meant so much to me. i cherish those times we had together. and i’m sorry for whatever i’ve done for you to cut me off. everywhere.

dear ex best friend,

i also want you to know. i dont think i deserve this treatment. i tried reaching out, wasn’t that enough? wasn’t that enough for you to tell me what i did wrong? how will i be a better person?

i don’t want to bring this guilt to grave.

this

constant, unknown, guilt.

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