It’s been too long. We’ve long since lost what we had. But something still remains, as if fighting to make itself heard. We push it down, silence it. We ruined ourselves and there’s no excuse for that. But it’s amusing how we still try. How we stretch the rare conversations we have, trying to make them memories. How we make references to one-another with random people. How we replay the good times over and over again until they grow stale in our minds. There was so much of us that was so true with the other. But things changed and we grew and learned and we gave up. And that’s not wrong. Sometimes we let go, even of the greatest things. Because the greatest things are not always good for us. I am glad we gave up. It was for the better, undoubtedly. But it still hurts. We haven’t lost our love, I know that. But we have lost the things that accompanied that love. We’ve lost the luxury of being casual and relaxed around each-other. We’ve lost the comfort of silences. We haven’t lost the love we had for each-other and we still have the remnants of a great friendship, but we’ve lost the things that led to it.