Masked

I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re my best friend, and you’re supposed to be there for me. For 7 years, for more than half your age, I was there for you. I was with you since we were both in pigtails, innocent and exploring the world. I was there to ask about your day, and I always want to know how your day went. I mean, hello, we’re miles away from each other, ofcourse your best friend is concerned. I ask you to rant but you wouldn’t. You hardly ever tell me your secrets anymore. 

Is my best friend gone? Has she evolved into a stranger?

I wouldn’t like to think so, because I know there’s that 0.01% of you returning to the old you. I was sad and you didn’t bother to ask why. Why do I always give, how come I never receive? Why do I seem to care so much when you care so little? Why do I feel like if I disappeared from your life, nothing would change? You found new friends, anyways. I know this may be a form of jealousy because you give more attention to them, but trust me, I just need that old best friend back, the one who would find me in a crowd just to talk to me, the one who’d share her food with me because she knows that food makes me better, my best friend who would listen, my best friend who was there on the day that I was embarrassed in front if the whole school and sought to comfort me, and listen to my pointless dramas. Remember that day? That was when I knew that you were my best friend.

Most of all, you chose to speak to people you’ve just met over comforting your best friend. I don’t know what went wrong, and I don’t easily get mad. I always put your happiness before mine, I mean, that’s what best friends do, they’re there for each other. Then I noticed, oh yeah, you’re gone. You’re hundreds of miles away and the person I knew for 7 years, might have gone with you.

I miss the old you, take of your mask and show me my old best friend, the girl I knew 7 years ago with pigtails and crooked teeth. Bring her back.