To an Old Friend

It's been a really long time. I knew that we would lose contact eventually, but I always figured that by then you wouldn't mean as much to me. I figured I would forget you just as I've forgotten other characters of my past, but somehow, you've remained in my thoughts despite my constant efforts to suppress every thought of you.

I don't think you could ever understand how much you meant to me. You were my rock, my motivation, the keeper of my well-being. You showed me how to dream and forced me to believe in myself when I couldn't believe in anything else. You were the sole reason I gained the mindset that not only could I be, but I was, capable of accomplishing great things. You were unbelievably amazing, and you reflected yourself upon me.

I don't cry to anyone, but I cried to you. I told you every thing through uncontrollable sobs and you listened without comment. Sometimes all you need is an ear to listen. You were that and more. I've faced darker moments since that night, but no one is around to comfort me anymore. I yearn for our friendship constantly. Not many come close to your sincerity.

You called me the other day. It took me a awhile to find the courage to answer. Once I did, all I heard was background noise, which led me to assume that the call was accidental. I hung up and spent a while trying to figure out why that hurt me so much. I guess it was the fact that you've kept my number after all these years, but you never found a reason to use it.

I suppose whoever has the power to help you stand has the power to bring you to your knees, and bring me to my knees you did. Our falling out was abrupt and foolish--high school drama that we both fell victim to. Still, through all the drama you remained sincere. If I hadn't moved, I'd like to think we'd still be friends. However, I did move and you only called me once 6 months after I left. You asked me whether I still had the dreams and aspirations I used to tell you about, and you told me to never give those dreams up.

We haven't talked since, but you haven't deleted my number, and, god, do I hope that counts for something.