And I want to ask you how you are; how you really are. How’s your mind; your soul; your body, but it feels like too much time has passed between us now. We are growing strangers, trying desperately to claw at a life neither of us live anymore.
We no longer talk about life and love; sex and drugs; the mind and body. We now simply discuss other people. We seem too scared to talk about ourselves.
And I love you, or rather I did. Irrevocably so. You were my rock, my strength, my light. You kept me adrift when I thought I would drown. I have not quite reached land yet, and I am not sure if you have either, but we have found others who keep us alive. They save us from the parents we love but don’t understand; from our sisters – our best friends – with whom we share noses and eyes, but never real ideas.
We have become relics to one another, pinned to our bedroom walls in still images.
You must know I will never forget us.
Time and distance just seem too much, but my memories are fond, and you are, and always will be, a friend.