My goodbye letter
I miss the days when we were poor all we could give to each other was our love. All the tender hugs, kind words, and company. Now that we are both successful we give each other material things, to replace what otherwise could be considered affection.
The barely standing shred of friendship we have now is a thread compared to what it used to be. We met each other at an innocent and easily impressionable age; we started off as friends, laughing off the absurdities of high school. We were comrades in battle, you searching for love, and me searching for excitement.
Through the years and heartbreaks, we both stopped looking, and realized we had each other. You romanced me in your ripped jeans and old guitar. Our relationship completed our transformation from youth to adulthood. You were a man now, and what used to be dreams were now fast approaching realities. Â
A year ago you asked me a simple question, my answer broke your heart. And as the wise saying goes, you never value what you have until it’s gone, the invitation to your wedding has made my answer rip my heart to pieces.Â
Regret is a real consuming thing you know. I think every day of what could have been. And most painfully, I think about what’s being lost.Â
All those hot Texas nights, when we would sneak off in your truck and talk about our so called philosophies. Those early mornings, when I would lay my head on my shoulder with the excuse of sleep. And your guitar, and my singing. Our poetry.Â
The man she sees is one whole image, tall dark and handsome, assertive, intelligent, and successful. I see a collage, random candid moments splattered with emotion.Â
As our friendship ends, all I have left is memories. A collage.Â
