She and I don’t talk too terribly much anymore. It’s been nothing but awkward since we fought for that first time. I guess I figured that we’d survive one measly fight, considering how well we got along otherwise. But we didn’t survive that one fight. Any friendship we had appeared to die.
And, of course, it was all over a boy. Oh, not in the way you may think. Did I find myself in the midst of a “bromance?” I think I did. “I love you, bro. You and me mean more than any girl. I’d do anything for you.” Boys lie.
When it happened, he apologized. I accepted. And I essentially told them both, “Do what you will.” I think they both blamed me regardless. I tried to “be the bigger person” and “get over it.” And, honestly, I did. I guess maybe I’ve grown up a little. Maybe I’ve learned that I can’t have what I want.
He’s pretty much out of the picture these days. We’ve all sort of fallen out of touch with each other. When someone mentions him these days, I stifle a little laugh. It’s amazing how much impact two people I’ve barely known can have on my life. And just how quickly those people can slide back out.
When she and I do see each other these days, we talk about the strangest things. We don’t talk about the weather, or movies, or politics. We talk about hair. We talk about bruises. We talk about cats. It’s like we’re still what we once were. Only, a faint memory… not the real thing.