There’s a ghost that haunts these parts
he lingers on these pages
full of words, such fanciful words,
that my eyes, my mouth, my heart
still get lost in.
There’s a poet who once wrote
such vivid words about our past
that romanticized our togetherness
and gave it an eternity in the abyss of the internet
so I can relive those soul-crushing movie script endings.
There’s a boy who once said
he loved me more than anyone in this world
that he’d do anything for me,
that somehow, some way we’d find each other again
and pick up like no time or distance had come between us.
But that boy turned into a man, a brave man
just as I turned into a woman, a fearless woman
learning that even best friends, best lovers
come and go, and they might never
Some days, I’m sad it’s not you who I wake up next to in the morning.
Most days, I just miss having my best friend.
I log into here and do the same routine every time - check my notifications, check my inbox, read old messages, old love poems, feel all the old butterflies of young love and remember that you were the bestest (not a real word, I don’t care) I ever had. I hate that we had to fall in love. I hate that we don’t talk anymore. And I know why we can’t, you said it all those years ago. I still remember it word for word. But ******* it, do I miss having my best friend. You were the one person who truly understood me, enjoyed the same things with the same amount of passion, and that **** passion got in the way. I hate that you left. I hate that I fell in love with you. And I hate that I’ll never have a friend like you ever again in my life.