It was me and her. Her and me.
Best friends since birth.
It was me and her. Her and me.
Crying when she had to move away.
It was me and her. Her and me.
Waiting in anticipation for the next annual visit.
The next annual visit.
Running to greet each other with bear hugs. Laughing and crying and giggling and telling secrets and sharing stories. Teary goodbyes and the promise to see each other soon.
And a whole year that went by so slowly but so quickly at the same time.
And one day..
I ran at her and gave a huge bear hug and she hugged me back like... an animal that doesn't give such great hugs.
There was no laughing. There was no crying. There was no giggling. There was no telling secrets. There was no sharing stores.
But there was her. There was her clinging to her mom like velcro, as if we were strangers. There was her raving on and on about her friends back home and there was her wishing she was with them. There was her parents acting as if what was going on was perfectly normal. There was me feeling more and more uncomfortable around the person I considered to be my best friend in the entire world. And there was her little brother who apologized for how his family was acting.
There was no teary goodbye and there was no promise to see each other soon.
But there was me. Alone. In my room. For what felt like an eternity. Wondering what had happened to my best friend.
And there was me feeling the emptiness that one must get when the person they thought they could count on to be there for them no matter what treats them like trash.
And there was no waiting in anticipation for the next visit.
But there is dread. And there is nervousness. And there is doubt. And there is the looming question.
What happened?
