Dear Best Friend

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Dear best friend,

I mean ex- best friend. It’s quite funny I still can’t get used to that term.

Did you ever notice that we haven’t met in years? What am I even asking right? It will be shocking if you even remember who I am.

Do you remember the first time we met? We were twelve and at each other’s throats the moment we met. And then when our English teacher asked to write an essay on ‘My Best Friend’, you wrote about me. I was really touched, still am; and I know I teased you for years about it.

Do you remember the sketches we made together? Me of Winx club and you with your Goku and bikes and what not! I guess I still have that book lying around somewhere. You remember that keychain of Stella from Winx club that you gifted me, just so you could see me happy? Yes, I still have it like a prized possession. How typically silly of me, right?

I miss how I was your first call when anything important happened in your life. Like when your brother was born. I still remember how I used to sneak in my dad’s phone to text you. It used to be SMS back then, and we exchanged nothing much more than a few texts. But I really used to cherish those , and I still wonder if you ever did. As we grew up, you would call me up to complain about your pimples and tanning and hair falls. I still find it hard to suppress a laugh whenever I think of your heart broken ramblings.

From two silly kids who loved the same cartoons like Pokemon and Power Rangers to two teenagers that shared the same crazy love for gaming to two young adults who discussed movies and pretty girls and handsome guys, we literally grew up together. Did you ever realize that?

Do you remember how you used to always stop by my house? I loved how you would turn up unexpectedly in your dirty T-shirt and shorts. You had seen me in every single one of my unprepared and ugly looks, and neither of us cared about it in the least. I still remember how I used to stare at you in awe cause of the amazingly polite and well mannered way with which you conversed with my parents. Even when you drifted off miles away, you still used to turn up unexpectedly, and we would talk about how stupid we were as kids, until it stopped one fine day.

Do you remember how we used to fight like some crazy lunatics back in school? We would bash each other up like anything. Throw anything and everything at each other. Cover one another with chalk powder or glitter or whatever we could find. Do you remember how scared you were of pins? And when it got too much you would twist my arms like hell and won’t let go until I said sorry and please. I hated you so much for that.

Do you remember how you used to have a crush on me and I hated you for it? I wouldn’t even talk to you for months! As the years passed by you used to be jealous of the guys in my life and me of the girls in yours. And now we don’t even know each other anymore, let alone the people in our lives.

Do you remember how we trekked the hills hand in hand, during that school trip back in highschool? Or how our little gang lay down at the very top, obscured by mist, munching on the Ferrero Rochers you brought with you, and how you secretly gave me an extra one? I still remember you telling me about your crazy habit of sticking those tiny stickers from that chocolate on your PC. If you come here you can still see those almost disintegrated and dusty stickers on my zillion year old PC, that no one has used in years.

Do you remember the pacts we made? Of the trips around the world and getting a flat together and all that. I would always get so touched whenever you mentioned those every time we talked over the years, however rare it was.

You were once the guy who turned up at my house at 7 am, so you could give me a heart attack seeing your new ride.  And now you won’t come here, even if I begged you for it.

That night when I called you up to wish you a happy birthday, you asked me who I was. I should have known better, at least from then on. But me, being as silly as I am, always got euphoric whenever you texted me.

You had such a high place in my life,still do, and over the years you became the standard with which I compared other men. I know I never was and never will be what you were to me, and I will never become like the kind of people you hang out with.

Above all, what I hate the most is that if we talk right now, we will still be like how we used to be- pulling each other’s legs, sarcastic ramblings, refreshing the pacts etcetera etcetera; almost as if we were in touch 24×7. So,don’t think that this is me complaining. It’s just me finally letting you go.

Best wishes

Your Best Friend(ex- I mean)