Apr 26, 2019
“You were thirteen, lying on her bed swearing you’d be best friends forever. Nowadays you barely talk. Nowadays you pass each other with your heads shoved down, like strangers who are scared to make a noise. The inside of her bedroom is no longer pastel pink; she no longer wears her hair long. You can’t remember the exact moment you stopped sharing secrets, all you know is you no longer know her favourite song. You can’t remember the exact moment things changed, or whether there was an exact moment at all. But these days you pass each other in the corridors and thirteen year old you wonders what went wrong.”
— S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #279 // “We were so close, now we’re like strangers.” (via blossomfully)
