We used to laugh until we could barely breathe. The kind of laughter that echoed through the hallways, bright and unstoppable. It wasn't just friendship for us—it was everything. She was the sister I never had, and I, the one she could always turn to.
But now, when I look at Miriam across the room, it feels like I'm staring at a stranger. She doesn't even notice, but I do.
It was subtle at first. A missed text, a glance I didn't understand, a small hesitation when I asked her if she wanted to walk home together. I brushed it off. After all, what was a little distance between us, right?
But it kept happening. I could feel the distance in her silence, in the way she no longer laughed as freely when I told my jokes, in the way she seemed to hold back from me. There was always something between us—some invisible thread pulling us apart, and yet, no one said anything about it.
Our friendship was once a song–messy, wild,full of laughter and inside jokes.
But now... it's a lilt
I never told her how much it hurt, how I missed her like I missed a piece of myself. I didn't want to seem weak, needy. So, I stayed silent, watching her drift further away without understanding why. I only noticed that I was the one reaching out more, but she never seemed to reach back. And I felt... lost.